Extraordinary
by emmawizzle.14
Summary: Hermione Granger is returning to Hogwarts for her seventh and final year. And with returning, she promises herself that she will stay out of trouble; no more meddling. But all of that changes when a sassy red-head and a loud, energetic man become teachers at Hermione's beloved school. Will the witch ever have a safe year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The bushy-haired witch stared out of the train, watching the scenery fly by. The cart was rocking slightly, but Hermione Granger didn't really notice. She was longing for those last few moments on King's Cross Station. Where she had to say goodbye to her best friends.

It wasn't an easy farewell. Of course, no one was surprised when Hermione had announced that she was returning to school to finish her studies. And no one was really taken aback to learn that Ron and Harry weren't on the same page as her. Naturally, Hermione was devastated when she learned that her best friends weren't coming with her.

But really, she wasn't shocked. Kingsley had given everyone who fought in The Battle of Hogwarts the N.E.W.T.S they needed to succeed in their career. So why would they want to go back to school, for no apparent reason? And even if they wanted to finish their education, Hermione suspected they wouldn't be able to set foot in Hogwarts without remembering what it had looked like the last time they saw it.

She sighed. Hermione missed the two of them terribly already. She glanced around her compartment and smiled at Ginny and Luna. There were a few other students that Hermione recognized but didn't automatically know. They were ignoring her slightly, and she was really okay with that. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts and strategies for the year.

When the trolley lady came by, Hermione shot up. She handed over the necessary Knuts and Sickles for three chocolate frogs. One for her, and two for the pair of idiots that weren't there with her. She sat back down at her window seat and gingerly opened one packet.

Hermione wasn't at all surprised to see that Harry's face was smiling up at her. His hair was as messy as it had been his whole life. The famous round glasses rested on his nose, and that scar that had always intrigued Hermione, peeked out beneath his mop of hair. The moving photograph winked at her, and the witch felt her eyes go damp. God, she missed them already. How she _wished_ they would've came with her.

Hermione shook away the thoughts. Yes, she wouldn't see her two best friends for six months. But she was returning to Hogwarts, for God's sake. She had missed it so much, and deep down; she was extremely excited that she was going back. Hermione took a deep breath. No matter was happened, she was finishing her Hogwarts career, even if it killed her.

...

The carriage ride up to the castle wasn't really what Hermione thought it'd be. She had completely forgotten about the thestrals. So, when she saw the bony, eyeless, winged horses; she had stopped dead in her tracks, terrified. Then realization hit her, and her heart had skipped a beat.

Tears had filled her eyes, and they threatened to fall over when she noticed so many more students stare at these creatures. Sobs started to fill the air, and the teenager walked to the coach closest to her. Hermione crawled into the carriage and pressed a fist to her mouth. The faces of her dead friends and colleagues flashed through her mind. _Fred,_ she thought with a sinking heart, _Poor, poor brilliant Fred. And Remus and Tonks. _Her list of mourning seemed endless.

Hermione stopped her sobs when she heard the rickety door open. She casually brushed her tears away, and her sympathy flashed through her when she saw Ginny's expression. Wordlessly, she gestured for Ginny to join her.

So instead of marveling at the sight of Hogwarts, instead of taking in its towers and high windows glowing in the dark night; Hermione silently cried over the people who lost their lives the last time she was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Her and Ginny's eyes were still red when they sat down for the feast. She scanned the newly refurbished Great Hall, and the happy people sitting in it. Her eyes fell on familiar faces and distinctive features. The giant door creaked behind her, and Hermione turned to watch the first years pile in.

She happily watched the ceremony, vaguely wondering how different sorting was a year ago. Hermione recalled Grimm's Place and fell deep into her memories. She didn't even notice Professor McGonagall had begun to speak until she heard, "-Silence for those who had fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts."

A painful lurch went through the young witch. She pulled her wand out of her robes and held it above her head, lighting the tip. One by one, witches and wizards raised their arms (except for the first years) in a silent salute. Many students, and even some staff members, had tears streaming down their faces.

When McGonagall had wiped her cheeks, she continued in a steady voice, "As, I assume, most of you noticed; we have two new staff members joining us this year. Professor Noble has taken over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for this year."

Hermione's eyes scanned for a new face, and they landed on a beautiful red-headed witch. She was dressed in simple witch's robes. Professor Noble smiled easily and batted her fingers at the crowd. Her eyes were scanning the room hurriedly, as if she couldn't believe that she was actually there. Polite clapping filled the Great Hall, and Professor Noble looked very pleased. She crossed her arms back over her chest, and Hermione clearly saw attitude stressed in each curve of her body.

"And," McGonagall was saying, "Our new Astronomy teacher, Professor Smith."

Hermione was taken aback when her eyes landed on the other new face. Professor Smith wasn't wearing wizard robes. Instead, he was wearing a deep blue suit, a lighter shirt underneath it, and a red tie was wrapped around his neck. Hermione glanced around her, and she saw how surprised other students were also. His thick, brown hair was spiked in the front and drooped forward slightly. Professor Smith removed his rectangular glasses and smiled wide at the students. He wiggled his fingers in a little wave. His grin was extremely contagious, and many students, including Hermione, beamed back.

"What a strange wizard." Ginny leaned up and whispered in her friend's ear as the food appeared on glittering gold plates.

Hermione nodded gently. _Yeah,_ she thought, _what a strange wizard indeed._

_..._

It wasn't long before Hermione found herself buried in homework. The teachers wasted no time diving into lessons. Even the new teacher, Professor Noble, got down to business in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione thought she was going to be a good advisor. Ever since Umbridge, she had become less criticizing of teaching skills. And Professor Noble actually let her students use their wands, so that was a major bonus.

And even though Professor Noble had fantastic teaching skills on wand movements and pronunciations; Hermione never saw her cast a spell. She had never even seen her teacher's wand for goodness sake. But due to her growing pile of work, Hermione didn't really have time to wonder about the seemingly wand-less witch.

Hermione had both of the new teachers on Fridays. So, after finishing a good margin of her back-to-school assignments, she packed her messenger bag with quills, ink, parchment and her telescope. The teenager walked with Ginny up the moving staircases, mentally planning on which teacher assigned what and trying to figure out a schedule.

Professor Smith was a few mintues late, which was good for a few stragglers. Hermione sat in the middle of the classroom, near the aisle. Her eyes were flickering back and forth between different objects in the room. She was twirling her eagle-feather quill when the door opened. She, along with twenty other students, swiveled in their seats to look at the new teacher.

He was wearing a brown, striped suit that day. A long coat went down to his ankles, and ordinary muggle shoes stuck out beneath them. His hands were stuffed in his coat pockets, and he took long, lazy steps towards the front of the room. Somewhat baffled by his choice of clothing, it took a second for Hermione to focus her attention on the actual teacher and not his clothes.

His name was on the chalkboard, and he was leaning on his desk, staring up at the ceiling. His face was impassive, and it looked as if he was longing for the planets and stars that were above them. Professor Smith looked back down at his class and grinned wide, "Hello all, seventh years innit?" His face scrunched up, and he cocked an eyebrow.

Without waiting for an answer, he pushed away from his desk and spun on his heel, his coat trailing out behind him. "_Welcome_ to Astronomy. I will be your teacher, which means I have to teach things. And hopefully, you will learn them."

"Now," He was on the other side of the room, and Hermione was just beginning to realize how much energy was contained in that skinny man, "Astronomy, astron_omy_, asTRonomy. Astronomyastronomyastronomy, Assss-trrrron-o-mmy. Astronomy. As-tron-o-my." He said with a different air each time he repeated the word. His eyes fell on his students, "I hope you're all getting this down."

Several students glanced at each other, some amused and some confused. Everyone slowly opened their notebooks and scribbled down the name of the class. Hermione was convinced that Professor Smith was completely mad, but she couldn't help but grin.

"Who can tell me was astronomy is?" He scanned the classroom. And Hermione was shocked to see how old his eyes looked compared to the rest of his face. And even though he had crow's feet and a gleam in his eyes, you could just see the scars from the horrible things they had witnessed and the pain that those eyes had shed.

Hermione swallowed uneasily, and raised her hand. He nodded his head towards her, "Ah yes, Miss-?"

"Granger…sir."

He grinned wide and tested her name out, "Alright Miss _Granger_, what is astronomy?"

Happy to be back in her element, she replied without thinking, "Astronomy is the branch of science that deals with celestial objects, space, and the physical universe as a whole."

Smith raised his eyebrows slightly, taken aback at the textbook answer. "Very good Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." He seemed overjoyed to have given out points.

"Now!" All of the students jumped, their eyes widening. Smith glided to behind his desk and grabbed…his wand, it seemed like. He pointed it towards the ceiling and a projection screen floated down. An annoying sound had pulsed at the end of his wand along with a blue light, and Hermione flinched. Before she could examine his instrument clearly, he was already tucking it inside his coat.

"Time to discuss black holes. Very interesting topic, love doing this. I consider myself an expert on black holes. _Well_, I consider myself to be an expert on many things, actually. Including bananas. I love bananas. Hate pears though.

_"Anyway,_ who can tell me what a black hole actually is?"

No one was shocked to see that Hermione had put her hand up after a moment's silence.

...

On the third Saturday of October, Hermione woke up late. All of her fellow seventh year witches were already gone. She slowly sat up and stretched, her neck aching from accidentally falling asleep in the chair the night before. The sun was rising when she had jerked awake and crawled into bed. Her sore neck was worth it though; a majority of her homework was finished.

She checked her watch and realized that she had missed breakfast. Hermione sighed and changed into her weekend wear. She filled her bag with a few quills, ink and parchment before heading out of Gryffindor tower. Knowing exactly where she wanted to go, she let her feet wander the familiar path while her mind drifted.

Before no time, she was in front of Hagrid's hut. Disappointment shot through her like an arrow when Hermione realized one of her oldest friend's wasn't home. She was really looking forward to catching up with him. Seeing what ridiculously dangerous creature Hagrid had caught this year and recalling old times would have put Hermione in a much better mood. She would have even forced down some of Hagrid's homemade rock pies, but it didn't really matter now. The witch could've stayed there and waited for him, but that seemed like a silly option. She backed away slowly, calling Hagrid's name once or twice. Just to make sure.

Foolishly fighting back tears, Hermione numbingly walked towards the Black Lake. She sat down at the first tree she saw that had shade. The sorceress gently took out her supplies and started composing her letters, writing carefully, making sure her handwriting was tiny so she wouldn't waste parchment. The slight breeze blew her thick hair into her face, which she impatiently brushed away. The only sound around Hermione was her quill scratching and the little waves hitting the beach. It was peaceful and familiar. It felt like home.

She signed the bottom of her letter to Harry and started to write Ron's. Her mind went blank on what to say. Her feelings for Ron were still conflicted. Yes, she had kissed him in the Battle of Hogwarts, and he most certainly kissed her back. But over that summer, they never did more than hold hands and share a few kisses. They never really talked about their relationship. Ron never brought it up, and Hermione sure as hell wasn't going to. She sighed, her mind aching.

Although, Ron never really knew how to express emotion very well, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hermione wrote a note similar to Harry's, with a few different details. She knew better than to be girly in her writing. It would either disgust Ron or just scare him off. Both of which would not make Hermione very happy. She'd send birds after him again.

Smiling, Hermione leaned back against her tree and glanced at Hagrid's cottage again, hoping to see that huge man blundering around. Instead of seeing her wild-haired friend, she saw Professor Smith and Professor Noble walking together. They appeared to be deep in conversation, Smith was waving his hands around, and Professor Noble was rolling her eyes.

It was clear now, but Hermione didn't know why it surprised her so much to realize that the two new teachers already knew one another. It was clear by their body language that they were extremely close. But they weren't involved romantically. Professor Noble shoved her confidant, laughing. And Smith's smile could be seen clearly from where Hermione was relaxing. They both looked like best mates that loved having the other around.

Of course, that reminded Hermione of Harry, Ron and herself. Slightly depressed, she pushed herself up and grabbed her bag. She had to stop thinking about her friends along with the war and just about everything else that happened in the last year. Hermione found it so easy to fall back into the past, the memories closing around her just like she had fallen into a pensive. It was messing with her mind and, more importantly, her studies. She couldn't afford to break down every time she thought of Dobby, Mad-Eye, or anyone she had lost because of Voldemort. Hermione knew she needed to forget and move on. But she was terrified that if she did, the memories of them would fade away also.

Hermione brought herself back to reality and noticed the sun was in the middle of the sky. The witch's stomach rumbled, and she quickened her pace slightly, wanting to get something in her stomach.

Ginny was already eating, so Hermione plopped down next to her. She grabbed a sandwich that looked similar to her fellow Gryffindor and filled her goblet with pumpkin juice. She didn't talk much to her younger friend, Ginny was writing furiously in one of her notebooks. Hermione glanced left and right down the dining table but didn't find anyone to chat to. Feeling awkward, Hermione wrapped her sandwich in a napkin and drained her goblet. Her bag was over her shoulder as she sauntered away. Many students whispered behind their hands when they saw her. Hermione still became quite unnerved when students' eyes widened whenever the fell on her. She had absolutely no idea how Harry dealt with it for so many years.

Hermione finished her sandwich by the time she was back at Hagrid's house. Looking left and right, she strolled past the little cottage and ducked into the Forbidden Forest. She stumbled for a few feet, grabbing her wand from her back pocket. The witch rotated her hand and branches, leaves, and any other foliage cleared away in front of her. She began walking, and the path immediately became cluttered again when it fell behind her.

Hermione was heading to her favorite hiding spot at Hogwarts. She had stumbled upon it during her third year, when she was at her loneliest. Hermione had been so desperate for something to get her mind of off her seemingly ended friendship that she had snuck out anytime she could. This particular spot had hidden her from the rest of her peers and muted her sobs. She had practiced charms, read books, wrote letters, and basically any small chore that she didn't want to do in the castle. Hermione had really grown fond of the place.

A smile lit up her face when she saw the entrance of her cave. The witch scaled the bigger rock and slid down the other side. Hermione walked carefully, making sure she didn't trip over one of her many lanterns. The teenager ignited the tip of her wand and walked a couple of meters before finding her favorite flat rock. Happier than she had been in a while, Hermione sat on the stone and groped for her lantern. She muttered a charm, and a small flame brightened the cavern.

Hermione leaned against the slightly damp wall and several thoughts filled into her mind. Hogwarts seemed to be back to normal, no physical damage from the war. Nothing seemed different or out of place. Except, of course, the giant new addition to the entrance hall. Beautiful writing covered an entire wall, and there were a dozen rows containing different names. And each name belonged to a person who lost their life because of Voldemort and his followers. In the first or second war, wizard or muggle, it didn't matter. Each and every name was etched into the stone. And it was one of the most beautiful and horrific things Hermione had ever seen.

Many more topics filtered through her mind. How difficult seventh year was already and how fast it seemed to be moving along. The witch thought of old adventures and new troubles she was sure to face. Hermione had sworn to herself early in the school year that she would not meddle and get into any kind of trouble. But the witch knew that was a promise she was more than likely going to break.

Finally, Hermione thought of the two new teachers. What a strange couple those two were. They weren't like any witch or wizard she had ever met. They had a different aura around them than the rest of the faculty and even the students. The sorceress couldn't really put her finger on it, but she didn't really trust those two. Not that they were necessarily untrustworthy, it was just that they didn't seem to know much about having magical blood despite having a job to teach students with it.

Hermione didn't notice how dark it was becoming until the sun had already slipped under the surface. Cursing, she launched up and grabbed her messenger bag. She put the lantern out with an impatient wave of her wand. She practically sprinted towards the entrance of the cave, needing to get back before it was pitch black. Even though she was an experienced witch, she did not want to be caught dead in the Forbidden Forest at night. Hermione picked up the pace, but she stopped in her tracks when she heard a low, deep growl.

Years of being in awful situations taught her not to panic right away. Hermione took a deep breath and grabbed her wand. She pivoted on her foot, her heart crashing in her chest. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark now that her lantern was out. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with a plan .Hermione's breath was shallow, and it echoed off the walls. The witch scanned the walls and squinted to see farther into the cave. _Maybe it was just a-_

A huge black…thing materialized out of the shadows and launched itself towards the teenager. She brandished her wand upwards, and a temporary shield rose in front of her. Growling and yells of frustration echoed off of the walls. Hermione rushed towards the forest, panic eating away at her heart and mind. The witch threw random curses over her shoulder, hoping to stop whatever it was. Her brain was completely blank except for one thing: Run.

Hermione could feel its presence behind her, and she screamed in spite of herself. She picked up speed, throwing her bag behind her. Her terror was growing, and she couldn't come up with a strategy. The sorceress scrambled up the largest rock at the entrance of her cave. Everything was moving extremely fast and agonizingly slow at the same time. The teenager struggled to get her balance while trying to look over her shoulder to find...find what ever that thing was.

Hermione screeched, seeing the creature right behind her. It grabbed her throat and lifted her up off her feet. Fury made the girl fight back, and it dowsed her fear momentarily. She was _not_ going to die like this, not now, not this way. The young witch's vision was going spotted, but she managed to stick the tip of her wand to the thing's gruesome chest. She could feel her heart slowing down, but it was still roaring in her ears. She screamed inside her head, and she felt her wand heat in the palm of her hand.

A blinding light filled the cave, and Hermione fell onto her knees, forcing air back into her lungs. Her neck throbbed horribly. Gasping, she scanned the seemingly empty cave, wishing and hoping the thing was gone. The witch stood up on shaky legs. What the hell was that thing? She had never seen anything like it before. A slight breeze ruffled the teenager's hair, and Hermione hoped that the thing, whatever it was, had vanished. She took a step backwards, knocking a few pebbles away.

A terrible, inhuman screech echoed around Hermione. She flung herself away from the cavern and the creature. An impossible plan formed in her head. The brilliant teenager twisted in midair and sent a powerful curse at her beloved hiding spot.

The explosion lit the entire area around the cavern with blinding white light. Hermione landed twenty feet farther than if she would've just jumped. Her mind was foggy and her body ached. Dust and gravel was raining down around her, and when she looked up; her one and only secret was crumbling in front of her. An intense sadness squeezed at her chest, along with a new wave of fury.

She was lying in wet leaves and soft mud. Her chest was moving rapidly. The anger and sorrow she felt started to die down, and Hermione started to shake. She didn't want to move due to sheer exhaustion and shock. Trying to fully understand what just happened, the teenager buried her face into the crook of her arm, replaying the last few minutes in her mind; trying to remember what the creature looked like exactly. Her annoyance grew when the face of her attacker wouldn't clearly come to mind. She couldn't remember anything about the thing that nearly strangled her. Hermione had been stupid enough to forget to identify the damn thing trying to kill her. Screaming in frustration, the witch slammed the heel of her hand into the ground.

Leaves crunching and footsteps were the sounds that started to clear Hermione's head. A warm hand grabbed her shoulder, and she threw her arm out, hitting who, and whatever, it was. Fear grabbed at her heart, and she pushed herself up on her elbow. Her wand was out, and it was pointing at the silhouette. She identified it as a human, and her terror died down the slightest bit.

Hermione couldn't tell who it was, but she didn't really care either way. She knew that was idiotic. But what did it matter? The witch just wanted to sleep. She wanted to fall asleep and not wake up for a very long time. The figure in front of her crouched down and laid a hand on her knee. She didn't feel frightened. The teenager was too damn tired and hurt to be frightened.

"It's okay." A familiar voice whispered urgently. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to make sure you're all right."

She could feel someone's body heat, and Hermione became grateful. She didn't realize how cold she was until then. She laid herself back down in the damp leaves, trembling slightly. The witch opened her eyes and studied the outline of the man. His breathing was heavy, and a long fingered hand checked her pulse and pressed gently against a gash that covered her leg. Hermione cried out and cringed away.

There were muttered apologies. That same hand then curled around the witch's neck and lifted her head a bit. Her rescuer leaned close to the teenager, and Hermione could just see the brown in his eyes. Worry and fright shined brightly in them.

"Miss Granger?" The voice said, "Miss Granger, can you speak to me?" He shook her gently.

Hermione couldn't make herself say anything, she couldn't find the words. Her fingers closed around her wand, and she thought, "_Lumos_."

A brilliant light shone from her wand, and Professor Smith's face was inches from hers. Concern showed clearly in his deep brown eyes, "Miss Granger? Are you all right? Are you hurt? What happened?"

Hermione's mind was scattered, and she blinked stupidly at her teacher. It slowly started to sink in that help had arrived, and that it was one of her newest professors. But it didn't make sense. How did Professor Smith get there? How did he come to her aid so quickly? It was impossible for him to have arrived that fast. There was no possible way he had heard the cave collapsing from the Astronomy tower or even the grounds. Hermione was miles in. The only explanation would be for him to already have been in the woods. But why? For what reason was this strange man to be in the Forbidden Forest?

Thinking about that made her head hurt. Hermione nodded slowly and struggled to sit up. Professor Smith moved his hand from her neck to the base of her spine to steady her. It hurt to breathe; she could feel blood soaking her jeans. Multiple scratches covered her arms, her head ached, and her entire body throbbed. Hermione could feel the delayed panic sinking in, and she tried to contain it. The witch curled her hands into fists to stop the shaking.

She examined the teacher in front of her and noticed his thin mouth and worried eyes. The teenager started to open her mouth to answer one of his questions. Then the distinct sound of rocks shifting had her heart stopping cold. Her wand jerked out in front of her, pointing at the boulders.

Professor Smith looked over his shoulder, and comprehension slowly dawned on his face. He reached into pants pocket and pulled out what looked like a metal wand. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, it can't be metal. No wand is made of _metal_. It must have to do with the lack of lighting. It has to be…

Professor Smith gently told his student to stay down. He gracefully rose to full height and took almost silent footsteps towards the fallen cavern. Hermione nearly yelled at him to stop, but she was frozen. The witch's mind raced at a million miles an hour. She quickly examined herself, and realized she didn't have any serious injuries, not counting the one in her leg. Hermione shifted, Professor Smith heard the crunching of leaves.

He turned sharply to look at her, "Stay down Miss Granger! I mean it. Do not take one step."

With that order, the man walked a few more feet towards the teenager's former hiding place. Anger filled her chest, and her nostrils flared. _How _dare_ he treat me like a child,_ Hermione steamed, _I am of age. And I am more than capable of helping this little twig wizard ._Her wand still clutched tightly in her hand, she slowly got to her feet, gritting her teeth. Hermione tried to focus on her irritation and not the pain that was coursing through her body.

It was silent, not even a cricket was chirping. But the silence was deafening, and Hermione just wished something would happen already. The sorceress tiptoed until she was a few feet behind her teacher. Professor Smith glanced behind him to check on Hermione. When he noticed that she was standing, his face morphed into an expression of rage.

"I _told_ you-"

Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt when she saw a dark shape. Her eyes widened, and she launched forward. The sorceress threw her arm out in front of Professor Smith, and his confused protests fell on deaf ears. The witch sent a red beam of magic towards the shadow that was throwing itself towards them. A horrible wail filled the silence as the spell hit Hermione's target directly in the chest. It crashed to the ground, shaking and snarling, but not moving. Momentarily proud, the teenager grinned.

The shadow screamed in rage and jumped to its feet. Hermione sent another spell, but the creature dodged it. A new wave of panic crashed over the witch, and all she wanted to do was run. The teenager tried to focus on her attacker, but it kept blending into the dark. Each curse that Hermione casted lit up the woods.

Professor Smith was yelling, but Hermione ignored him. Adrenaline crushed her fear, and she wasn't even thinking about what spells she was firing off. The teenager slung her arm forward, a purple beam of light hitting a tree.

"_Miss Granger!_" Professor Smith scolded. She felt him behind her, and a hand clutched her arm. The witch shook him off. "You don't know what it is. Don't-"

A crunch of leaves had both of them whirling around. The shadow was standing eerily still, its chest heaving. Fear clutched at the young witch's heart. She didn't know what it was, so how could she defeat it?

"Hermione." Professor Smith hissed urgently, and she was taken aback with the use of her first name, "It's after _you_. When I say so, _run_."

She glanced at her professor and nodded slightly. A slight breeze stirred up leaves between the opposing forces. But no one moved, not even to breathe. Fear was making its way back into the sorceress's chest. A branch snapped far off, and Hermione spun her head towards the noise, startled.

A terrifying roar exploded in her ears. The thing threw itself at the witch. Hermione brandished her wand, but it was knocked out of her hand when the shadow pinned her to a nearby tree. The back of her head slammed against the bark, and her vision doubled. The witch heard Professor Smith shouting at the top of his lungs.

She struggled against the thing that was holding her. Hermione was yelling and fighting, refusing to give up. That's when the young sorceress saw the monster's face for the first time. It was pure black, with absolutely no facial features. Just smooth, dark skin. The flesh on its chest was torn away and hanging lifelessly away from its skinny body. Ribs shown clearly, gleaming in the moonlight, and it smelled of sulfur and death. Gnarled, scaly fingers wrapped around the witch's already bruised neck, and her only weapon of defense was lying however many feet away.

The last thing that Hermione saw was that blank face so close to hers and a glow of blue light. A familiar sound pierced her ears along with terrified yelling, and Hermione thought no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello readers. I just want to say thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate it. Now, I know you don't really care about this, you want the story, but real quick: **

**I'll try to be regular with my chapters, I'll try real hard. I have several other activites to focus on. So if it takes me awhile, I am so sorry. If I don't post for awhile, don't worry. A chapter will appear eventually. I love this story too much to give up now. **

**Thank you all again. Enjoy!**

Chapter Two

There was darkness, darkness everywhere. It was pressing against her. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She could feel the life being sucked away from her body. She stared into the cruel, faceless figure. She wanted it to stop. _Stop!_

Hermione's eyes shot open on a gasp. She rocketed upward, her heart pounding in her chest. It was dark, and that automatically sent the young witch into a panic. She pushed the heavy covers away and searched for her wand. It was in her hand when Hermione heard the squeaking of a mattress. The brilliant witch flung herself out of bed and jabbed the point of her wand into the thing at her bedside table.

"Whoa, whoa. Pointy, dangerous thing. Don't like that much. It's just me, Miss Granger." A lantern was ignited, and a low flame lit up the face of Professor Smith.

Confusion made Hermione's eyebrows knit together. She didn't lower her wand. Too many months of paranoia kept her weapon at the ready. The teenager's eyes swept past her teacher. She recognized the white sheets and little tables topped with bottles. They were in the Hospital Wing. So, a relatively safe room. No immediate danger. The witch studied the man in front of her again. He raised his shoulders and half grinned.

Hermione scoffed and shoved the teacher away slightly. She didn't feel much gratitude at the moment. Her heart was still pounding from the surprise accouter. She vaguely realized the disrespect she was giving her superior, but she had the slightest feeling that Professor Smith didn't care much about respect. At least, not enough where Hermione felt as if she had to say "sir" at the end of each sentence. The teenager snatched the lantern away and placed it on the tray near her temporary bed. The teenager fiddled with the source of light for a few seconds, trying to slow her heart.

Professor Smith watched his student, hating the way fear had filled Miss Granger's eyes when he removed himself from one of the beds. His hands itched towards his inner pocket, but what good would his instrument do? It would just cause suspicion. And besides, Hermione was too clever. She would recognize it. Or at least, deduce what it is.

Smith leaned against one of the bedposts and studied the young witch in front of him. He took in the cuts on her face and arms, and he flinched slightly when he noticed the dark bruises standing out on Hermione's neck. Rage filled the teacher's stomach. He had not been there long, but Hogwarts was as much of a home to him as anywhere else. He would _not_ let anything happen to another one of his students. That was a promise.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hermione's eyebrow was cocked, and her arms were crossed over her chest. The little flame behind the witch darkened her features, making her seem deathly and frightening.

Professor Smith blinked, removing himself from his deep thoughts. "Sorry." He said, straightening. "Just sort of…blanked for a moment."

Hermione tilted her head. Her left leg had begun to throb, and it was trembling slightly from holding her weight. But she didn't sit down. She was determined not to feel weak. The witch shifted her weight to her other leg and balled her hands into fists. The rest of her body was remembering the injuries they had received and soon, her whole body was throbbing. The teenager needed a sleeping potion and a big dose of pain killer. She gently touched the knot on the back of her head and tried extremely hard not to wince.

"What're you doing here?" She asked after a moment of silence. "I think I'm perfectly safe here in the Hospital Wing."

"No, I know. It's just…Wanted to be sure you didn't wake up alone or scared." Smith's eyes darted back and forth, studying her. He remembered the terrifying sounds coming from Miss Granger as she slept, the nightmares she was obviously having. The memory twisted his stomach. He hated nightmares. They were pointless, evil things. The professor was glad he had stayed with her, no one should wake up scared and alone.

Hermione felt taken aback. Her eyes flickered to the bed behind Smith, and she noticed how it was as messy as hers. Confusion filled her rattled brain. Why, in God's name, did this strange man stay with her? He needn't to. Hermione was perfectly safe, staying in the infirmary to heal. It was very noble and sweet of course. But it didn't make sense. No teacher cares _that_ much about a student's wellbeing. She studied the unusual man again, wishing that she could figure something out about him instead of becoming more confused.

"You didn't have to do that sir." The witch muttered, half horribly embarrassed and half extremely grateful.

He grinned his contagious grin, "I know that too. But besides not wanting to leave you alone, I also wanted to be here when you woke up."

Smith sat down on Hermione's bed, one leg planted on the ground. "I wanted to be the first to ask you: What happened?"

The teenager's mind flashed to her now demolished cave. The events played out in great detail. But Hermione felt more frustration that fear. What was that thing? Where the hell had it come from? And what even happened after she blacked out? The witch hadn't noticed her leg was trembling visibly until Smith reached out and grabbed her wrist. He tugged at her gently, and Hermione crawled onto the bed, adjusting her nightgown. Her leg felt as if there was a second heart beneath her skin. The sorceress pulled back the bandages. She examined her limb and noticed the horribly deep gash. Scabbed over, but still extremely painful. The witch groaned inward and pulled her dressing gown over her wound.

"Miss Granger, what happened?" His eyes pulled at Hermione, making her want to explain everything.

But why had Professor Smith been in the woods? What sane man walked around the forest at night? There was no way it was just an evening stroll. There had to be a reason. But what reason could that be? Nothing added up, not logically. Even though he had helped her, had saved her life, Hermione didn't trust him all the way. It would be foolish to. Harry and Ron would probably slap her if they found out she told this strange man everything.

She was twirling her wand between her fingers, a nervous habit of hers. The teenager chewed at her lip, debating what to confess. Hermione waved her hand, and every other lantern in the room ignited. A small weight of anxiety lifted from the girl's chest. She felt a great deal more comfortable in a lit room.

Hermione talked slowly and deliberately. She explained why she snuck into the forest and how she slipped into her cave. The teenager talked about time fading away. She detailed running from the creature and destroying her cave. A painful lurch went through her body when she realized she could never go back there again. The witch finished her story with Professor Smith materializing out of nowhere.

Her teacher didn't talk much. And Hermione didn't really give much for him to consider. She had spoken in short, meaningless sentences, just giving the gist of what happened. The witch didn't want him to know the fear that had threatened to drown her, or the fact how infuriated she was that the teenager had no idea what attacked her. Those were her thoughts, and she didn't plan sharing them.

Smith knew that Miss Granger wasn't telling all of her tale. But he didn't care. A horrible, terrifying feeling filled his gut, and his eyes flickered to the double-doors. He scanned the young girl's face. Smith despised that haunted look in her eyes, from that night and the past years. She was way too young to have seen so much. Smith straightened, he was determined to not have this clever girl go through anything horrible again.

"Listen to me." Professor Smith fixed his gaze on his student, "Do not tell anyone about this. Do you understand Hermione? If you breathe a word of this to anyone; there will be consequences. And neither of us wants that. We needn't worry anyone. Okay, Miss Granger?"

Hermione understood his order, but she didn't like it. Not one bit. The teachers should know what happened; they could do something about it. They could march into the Forbidden Forest and capture that creature before it harmed anybody else. But Hermione knew if the students saw the teachers stride into the forest with their wands raised, there would be an uproar of panic and confusion.

As much as it irritated her, the young witch silently agreed. It was best to keep this silent, for now.

"What shall I tell the teachers?" The words burned slightly as she uttered them, "When they come and ask?"

Gratitude flashed through the skinny man's body. Finally, someone who didn't question him and make life more difficult. He noted the stubborn set on the young witch's jaw and smirked slightly. Oh, he liked this girl. Maybe he should- Smith shook away his thoughts. Now was not a good time.

"I dunno. Make something up. You've had to have experience with that, lying to the teachers? With all the running around with that Potter kid, you'd have to be a master at it."

Fury rose up before Hermione realized that her professor had a point, "But wouldn't it be better if we knew the same lie? After all, we wouldn't want people asking and our stories not lining up."

Clever, very clever. "Just say…a spider, hmm? One of those giant spiders was in your hide out, and it came after you. It was crushed in the collapse."

Hermione pursed her lips. She couldn't tell if her respect was growing or if her liking was shrinking. But you couldn't deny this man was quick on his feet. Energy was draining from the teenager's body, and she nodded curtly. "Fine…That's fine with me."

Professor Smith beamed, "Brilliant. Now alright, off to bed. You need strength to recover."

"Not yet. You never told me; what happened?"

Smith's eyes flickered back and forth, studying the young, brilliant witch. He knew she wouldn't take no for an answer. He sighed deeply and ran his long fingers through his hair. The witch was slightly glaring at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Well…The thing, the-the shadow thing. It had got ahold of you." The memory flashed behind the professor's eyes, and he recalled how utterly terrified he had been, seeing that thing squeezing the life out of his student.

Professor Smith swallowed, "And I rushed over and…got my wand out. The creature apparently doesn't like light, so when I lit the tip of my wand it just vanished, gone with the wind."

After he had gotten rid of it, the woods had been too quiet. Smith remembered his hearts pounding in his chest. The feeling of dread when he saw Hermione crash to the forest floor nearly killed him. With Miss Granger in his arms, he sprinted. Faster and faster until he stumbled into the hospital wing. It seemed like a lifetime before Madam Pomfrey announced that the young witch would be okay. Professor Smith had sat in the bed next to his student's for hours. Waiting for those nightmares to finally wake her up. No one could imagine the relief that had coursed through his veins when the witch threatened him with her wand.

Hermione believed him. It made sense, that a shadow would be terrified of the light. The witch glanced at his coat, where she knew his "wand" was kept. She was positive that there was no such thing as a metal wand, and Smith knew that too. She raised her eyebrows slightly, but then she sighed. What would be the point in arguing? She was safe now, it really made no difference.

Smith was grateful when she didn't bring up his lie. That would've just made things more complicated. The teenager pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, "Okay, but what was that thing? I've never…read, seen or even heard about a creature like this before."

"Neither have I." Smith admitted.

The witch looked up at him. Now that, she didn't believe. True, he might not know exactly what the thing was. But Hermione was certain that he had an idea. There was too much knowledge and experience buried in those deep, brown eyes, there was no way Smith didn't have a theory.

"Sure. But I have a strong feeling that you have an idea."

Smith smirked, enjoying this girl's cleverness. He pushed himself away from the bed and slipped his hands into his coat pocket. "Okay, yeah. I have an idea. But not one that I want to worry your clever, little head with."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Professor Smith cut across her, "Now Miss Granger, really. Do you think there's any point in arguing with your teacher? It'll just frustrate us both. Now, go to sleep."

"You don't think I can handle it." It wasn't a question. Hermione felt rage boil in her stomach. So many insults and arguments floated to the surface that she had trouble holding them back.

"No." Professor Smith looked down at her, not with pity or with the air of looking upon a younger, stupider individual. But with the gaze of worry and understanding. "I don't think that at all. I think you could understand it better than I could, with your brain. No, Miss Granger, I don't think that you can't handle it. I think that you shouldn't worry about this. After all, you've had enough trouble for a lifetime, haven't you?"

The witch was shocked. That was not the answer the teenager expected, not in the slightest. Hermione looked up at her advisor with some respect, "Maybe I have had enough trouble for a lifetime. But that doesn't mean life is done giving me trouble to deal with."

Professor Smith grinned, "That I respect and completely understand. But now, Miss Granger, no more on the subject. You need sleep."

Hermione didn't bother arguing. Her eyes were itchy with exhaustion. The witch waved her hand once more, and the lanterns dimmed. She straightened her pillow and heard her teacher walking towards the door.

"Oh, one more thing," Hermione turned her bushy head, her eyebrows raised, "Five points from Gryffindor."

The teenage witch's mouth fell open. She had lost points for her house before, sure. More than she could count, to be honest. But what in God's name had she done to lose a mere five points?

"But-but what did I do?" Hermione never usually questioned a teacher, but she was completely baffled.

Professor Smith was still smiling, so the witch knew that there was really no harm done, "Well of course Miss Granger, you disobeyed me. I had told you to stay put when you didn't."

"And in return I had saved your life." She was grinning desperately at this impossible man.

"And thank you for that, Miss Granger." Smith was leaning against the wooden doors, one hand on the knob. "But that doesn't change the fact. Five points. Now, nighty-night, don't let the Daleks bite."

He opened the door and whisked out of sight, his coat flying out behind him. Hermione sat there in the near darkness for a few minutes. _What in Merlin's name is a Dalek?_

...

Smith was back in the forest. His "wand" was pointed in front of him, lighting the somewhat worn path. Thoughts were clouding his mind. Possibilities, scenarios, questions and plausible answers came and went. But nothing stuck out, nothing connected. His mind was so muddled that he kept tripping over sticks and getting his coat caught in bushes. _Bloody forest_, he thought angrily as he detached himself from a few spare branches.

Within a few minutes, Professor Smith arrived home. He tucked his trusty screwdriver into his pocket, looking left and right as he did so. He dug his key out his pocket, straining his ears for the slightest noise. Smith scanned his surroundings one more time before unlocking his home. The rickety, old door swung open, and he stepped inside.

He threw his coat to the side where it landed perfectly on one of the wavy columns. He strode to the console and began typing furiously. His nimble hands flew over the buttons, and his black glasses rested on his nose. His mind was whirling, trying to comprehend the data on the screen. Footsteps reached his trained ears, and he looked to his left at his wonderful companion.

"Donna." He said happily, grinning at his friend's wild hair and annoyed expression, "Sleep well?"

"Not with you tappin' away at this hour." Donna Noble rubbed at her eyes and went to go stand next to her friend, "What's all this about?"

Smith looked over at Donna. The red-head had a robe wrapped tightly around her body, and pink slippers covered her feet. He took in the bruises under her eyes and the ruffled state of her night wear. He hadn't meant to wake her up. Guilt flashed through the man's body. But it didn't really matter anymore, did it? And he knew that Donna wasn't going to go back to sleep until she had an explanation.

Smith leaned against the console, his back to the computer. The professor looked at his wonderful companion, guilt shining in his eyes. He took a breath, "Our brilliant Miss Hermione Granger had an accident last night."

Donna's mouth dropped open slightly, her eyes brimming with shock and compassion, "Oh my God, what happened? Is she hurt? When was this? And you didn't even think to call me? What the hell is this nonsense? Don't need me anymore do ya?"

Smith never had a chance to answer any of her questions; she was rattling them off so quickly. The red-head's hands were placed firmly on her hips, aggravation etched on her face. "Doctor, tell me what happened."

"Well, I could do that if you'd shut it for a second." Spat the Doctor. Immediately, guilt churned in his stomach. He hadn't meant to snap at his brilliant friend, but what happened to Miss Granger frightened him to the bone. And he didn't like being frightened.

"Doctor," Donna took a few steps forward and placed a hand on his forearm. Her brown eyes were full of understanding, "What happened to Hermione?"

The time-lord sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. His mind flashed back to three months ago, where this all began. The message on his psychic paper, the exploration for the hidden world, preparing to become a teacher for God knows how long, the lies he and Donna spent rehearsing until it was etched into their minds, walking into this brilliant place to apply for the job, and finally, getting accepted. All of it seemed so long ago, but only just yesterday at the same time. The Doctor swatted away his memories, and he began Hermione's tale, not straying away from anything.

Donna was silent for a second. She had the knuckle of her pointer finger pressed against her lips. She removed her hand, "'_Don't let the Daleks bite?_ ' Really Spaceman? Are you daft? You know-"

"Yes, but I'd rather Miss Granger worry about what a Dalek is rather than my sonic screwdriver, which I _know_ she's suspicious of." He loosened his tie, "Besides, I know she thinks I'm insane anyway; random, nonsense words aren't going to affect her."

Donna rolled her eyes but didn't counteract him. The companion rubbed at her forehead, thinking. "So, you honestly don't know what that thing was."

"No." The time lord said truthfully. He turned around and pulled the monitor towards them. "And I've been looking everywhere. In my memories, in the TARDIS database. But nothing. No sign of a gruesome shadow that doesn't have a face."

He pushed away the computer, disgusted. It was really worrying him. What in God's name could it be? He had ran across plenty of new creatures, but none that ever stumped him like this before.

"It couldn't be…a creature from their world could it Doctor?" Donna's tone had him glancing over. "You said yourself, this world shouldn't exist. It's not possible. But maybe…maybe it's something impossible from their world, not ours."

The Doctor let this information sink it. She had a very brilliant point. This could be something from Hermione's region, not his. It could be – however impossible- a magical beast that needed slaying. It might not be alien at all. Which is ridiculous of course. The Doctor wasn't even convinced that witches and wizards did exist, despite the evidence in front of him. The old time lord had a few theories up his sleeve about these sorcerers.

But despite all of the debates inside his head, he knew Donna had brought up an important issue. Maybe it was, technically, from their world. An alien that had merged itself in with this part of humanity. That could explain why there was no immediate data on this creature.

"But…" The Doctor drawled thinking aloud, "Hermione confessed that she had never heard of such a creature. And, Donna, you know our Miss Granger. She…is…_brilliant_. If she hasn't heard of this…thing, whatever it is, we _know_ that it isn't very common."

Donna's head was slowly nodding, "You're telling me. Half the time I want to tell her to get that bushy head of hers out of her book, but what's the point? She just gets O's anyway."

The Doctor smiled wide, "Cleverest witch of her age, wouldn't you say?"

The red-head returned her best friend's contagious grin, "Couldn't've said it better myself."

The smiles slowly faded, and creases appeared between their eyebrows. The night was flying by, and they both knew they needed to get some rest soon. But neither wanted to let the topic drop. Both travelers wanted to find the thing that was responsible for attacking one of their favorite students.

"There's something I didn't say, to either of you." The Doctor looked over his black glasses at his friend, "When the shadow had knocked-out Hermione, and I had scared it away. It looked back for a split second, just a moment. It muttered- Well, you couldn't even call it muttering. It sounded like wind, like a breeze through the leaves...'The witch shall not live.' It said, 'She is not permitted to live.'"

Donna was greatly disturbed by this news, and the Doctor didn't blame her in the slightest. "Why her though?" He wondered, the time lord pushed away from his friend and started pacing around the TARDIS. "Why the grudge? Yes, I understand. You blow up a cave around something; it's going to be angry. But to promise the death upon this girl? That doesn't seem right. Not normal. Miss Granger's too smart to wander back into the forest, and it'll get caught trying to sneak into the castle. So what's it playing at? 'Not permitted to live', what does that mean?"

His brilliant, red-headed companion took in all of this information, slowly processing it. She was use to her Spaceman talking at a million miles an hour and asking unanswerable questions. But this time, it seemed different. Donna felt just as passionate about this mystery as the Doctor did. And she sure as hell was going to find out what did it.

"I dunno Doctor. Orders from something else? Extremely bad chip on its shoulder? We don't have a clue. And standing here all night really isn't going to get us anywhere."

The Doctor's hair was a complete rat's nest from running his hands through it. His wise eyes had a slightly crazed look to them. She could almost see the gears in his head turning, faster and faster, never ceasing. The companion knew that the Doctor would not rest until he had a plausible theory.

Donna gazed upon her friend, love and compassion making her smile warm. "Now, I know you don't want to, but go to sleep. Your thick, brilliant mind needs some rest to create some new theories."

The time lord grinned, "I know you're tired because you are being way too nice to me." The Doctor scanned his monitor again. "You go on ahead. I just want to check a few more things, then I'll be off."

The companion saw right through that lie, but she knew there would be no point in arguing. The Doctor was already typing away, closing himself off so he could think straight. Donna patted her friend's shoulder and made her way to her bedroom.

The Doctor looked up when the muffled footsteps faded away. He glanced at the doorway, and his eyes flickered back to his computer. His fingers had stopped typing. The time lord sighed hugely and swatted the monitor away. Digging his hands in his pocket, the Doctor followed his companion to his own room. To earn the full night's sleep that he so rightly deserves.

...

The next few days were uneventful at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To Hermione's great relief, not many students noticed that she was missing for the rest of the weekend. They all assumed she was hidden in the library somewhere. The teenager was grateful there were no looky-loos peeking into the Hospital Wing. She didn't need the stress of rumors circulating on how she ended up there. It was so much simpler to be hidden behind the white curtains. Although, she started to get more visitors when classes started again. Unable to walk correctly, Madam Pomfrey made Hermione stay in the infirmary until Tuesday night.

But her hospital stay was anything but peaceful. Professor McGonagall stormed into the infirmary two mornings after the incident. Her mouth was in a thin line and her eyes were blazing. Professor Smith and Professor Noble trailed behind her. Madam Pomfrey was cleaning Hermione's wounds when the double doors burst open.

The young witch had jumped, which caused her healer to accidently hit the injury. Hermione cried out gently and grabbed her leg. Tears stung her eyes. She glared up at the person responsible for causing her pain, but the angry look melted from her face when the witch noticed it was the Head of her house and the entire school.

"Now Headmistress." Madam Pomfrey snapped, her hands on her waist. Hermione bit her lip, knowing this wasn't going to end beautifully, "We have talked about this; this is a _hospital_. My patients need rest. You can-"

"Poppy, really. I understand. Miss Granger needs rest, but we..._I_ need to know what happened. To make sure it never happens again." McGonagall eyes were like steel, and her tone was clipped. No wise woman would counteract her.

The healer's nostrils flared, "_Fine_, but you are waiting until I bandage Miss Granger's leg. Is that fair?"

"Extremely." The Headmistress's velvet cladded arms crossed over her chest. Her mouth was still extremely thin.

Hermione sat awkwardly in her temporary bed. She was aware on how vulnerable she seemed, wearing a hospital gown, her skin extremely pale with dark bruises sticking out. The teenager didn't care for it. She hated that she glowed with the illusion that she was weak. Hermione knew for a fact that she wasn't. Anyone with common knowledge knew she wasn't.

She could feel her temper rise, but the witch pushed it down. She knew there was no real reason she should feel angry. It was just the stress over the past few days was messing with her emotions. Hermione took a slow breath and watched Madam Pomfrey bandage her leg. The witch automatically answered the questions that were asked, and in no time; her leg was patched up.

"You may interrogate my patient now." Madam Pomfrey scooped up her medical supplies and stormed to her office. Both of the witches in the room smiled slightly, use to the nurse's behavior.

"How are you feeling Miss Granger?" Hermione's eyes flew to her Transfiguration teacher, feeling touched at the genuine concern in her eyes.

The witch sat up straighter, "I'm fine, really. I'll come through, like always. But I suspect that you really want to know why I was out of bounds Saturday evening."

The Headmistress sat on the edge of Hermione's mattress. Her two other visitors stayed where they were, watching the scene carefully. The young witch's eyes flickered to the pair, but then she focused on her professor. Her heart twitched in her chest, Hermione didn't like how calm her advisor was.

"Miss Granger." McGonagall began, her eyes shut, "What in _blazes_ were you _thinking_? You could've been killed. If Professor Smith hadn't-"

"I'm sorry." Hermione interrupted, surprising both of them. "Do you honestly think I hadn't considered that Professor? What would've happened if I had not been helped? It keeps me up at night, honestly.

"Now, I know there was no excuse for what I did. None at all. And I am dreadfully sorry. And whatever punishment you decide for me, I will accept it without argument."

The Headmistress blinked, slightly shocked. She took in the young girl who had suffered so much already. The witch pursed her lips, "Obviously, there will be punishment. Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and your detention will be on Saturday."

Hermione almost smiled. Weirdly enough, that was a familiar setting to the teenager; detention. She wasn't resentful or angry, she knew she needed to be punished. The witch had broken a rule, it was only fair.

She nodded a few times before speaking, "Okay, that's okay. D'you know which teacher I'll be helping?"

Professor Smith piped up before McGonagall could answer, "Actually, Headmistress, I think I have a few things Miss Granger could do. Couple o' chores here and there."

Hermione's heart fell slightly. It wasn't that she didn't like Smith. She just hated not being able to get a read on this strange, skinny man. And detention with him? Who knows where that could lead? She'd probably have to clean his telescopes with a toothbrush or something ridiculous like that.

The witch snapped herself out of her brooding thoughts in time to hear her teacher say, "-good idea to me. Miss Granger?"

"Seems like punishment enough." Hermione said it with a grin, to not offend her Astronomy teacher. And sure enough, he gave her a wolfish grin.

"Very well." The Transfiguration teacher rose, "I will see you in class tomorrow or perhaps," She glanced at the nurse's office, "Wednesday."

"Professor, wait." Hermione called out when McGonagall started to stride towards the doors, "What did we do in class today?"

"Nothing actually. Reviewed our newest spell. What?" She questioned when the surprised, confused look colored the student's face, "It wouldn't've been wise to start the next lesson without the only witch who would succeed."

Hermione felt herself go red. She grinned sheepishly, "Why thank you Professor McGonagall."

The Headmistress grinned and slid behind the doors. It took a few moments to realize the witch still had two visitors. Hermione adjusted her blankets, feeling the awkwardness in the air thicken. When she realized they weren't about to leave, she looked up at them.

"What about you two? What did we do in class today?"

The pair of friends glanced at each other and then back at their student. They had similar expressions on their face, and Hermione could tell that they, like her, were sleep deprived. The teenager raised her eyebrow, waiting.

"Not that it had anything to do with you being gone," Professor Noble stated, her arms crossed over her chest, "But we just, er, went over some curses."

Smith was trying not to smile, "Coincidently, all we did is review too. Not," He waved his hand at the young witch, "That it had anything to do with you of course."

Hermione grinned wide, "I wouldn't dream of it."

The three of them laughed together, and Hermione found it a bit strange. To connect with teachers like that. Sure, they did have a power of authority. But it didn't feel like they wanted to dictate, those two. They had the air of friendship, and they weren't afraid to make real connections with their students. It wasn't something the witch was used to, but Hermione couldn't say that she didn't like it.

When the laughter died away, Smith glanced at Madam Pomfrey's office. Professor Noble sat on her student's bed and examined the bruises and cuts marking her otherwise flawless skin. The teenager's eyes were exhausted. Donna's heart clenched painfully. She wanted to offer Hermione tea, but there wasn't any available.

"How're you Miss Granger, really?" Noble's eyes shone with concern, and Hermione felt very touched. She struggled internally for a minute, trying to decide what exactly to say. She didn't like seeming weak, and she really hated complaining. The witch faltered under her advisor's gaze. She took a deep breath, staring at her knees.

"Fine really…can't walk for a long period of time, but Madam Pomfrey will do her magic and that'll change. Headaches come and go, hurts to swallow. But I'm okay."

She didn't remove her eyes from her knees until a hand cupped her chin. Her head was steered upwards, and Professor Smith's brown eyes bore into hers. He had the joined the two women, and now the three of them were huddled on Hermione's bed. His forehead was crinkled in concentration, and his eyes were pinched with worry.

"Miss Granger," He whispered, "How are you feeling? Really?"

The teenager's eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them. This pair was really unusual, for teachers. Never had she seen such compassion from a superior, except maybe Remus. It drove her mad. They acted like parents, or best friends. Hermione wished they would behave like McGonagall did, it be easier for her head. But deep down, she was extremely grateful; it was nice to know she wasn't completely alone at Hogwarts.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. Her teachers waited patiently for her answer. "Frustrated," she confessed, "I'm falling behind on my work. I'll never finish my essays. At this rate, I won't sleep for a week."

She caught the couple looking away from each other and smiling. The witch put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. Smith's grin melted off of his face. He coughed into his fist, "Sorry, continue."

Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated but strangely happy. She pushed back her bushy hair, "Like I said, I'm fine. I've been hurt before, I'll heal. It's no big deal."

And really, it wasn't. Hermione knew how to let her body and healer do the work. There wasn't much she could do besides not putting strain on herself. She wasn't lying when the witch said her injuries weren't bothering her. True, the pain was annoying. But it could've been a whole lot worse, if Smith hadn't of been there. The teenager was grateful she wasn't injured more. She was okay, she felt fine. But when the sun went down; that wasn't the case.

The teenager was telling the truth when she said the incident haunted her at night. The…thing, whatever it had been, was keeping her up when she tried to go to bed. It plagued her dreams and woke her up in the middle of the night. The witch hated how helpless that creature had made her. Hermione despised how fast her heart would pound when she would recall what happened that night. She loathed the crushing fear that would weigh on her chest when she thought what might've happened if Smith hadn't helped her. But she knew there was nothing she could really do about it now. It was over.

Hopefully.

Smith could practically see the wheels turning in the brilliant girl's mind. He believed her, when she said she could handle it. It was obvious the witch had been injured before and quite often. And the teacher hated that. No one, especially a child, should have to suffer like Hermione has. No one should bear scares on their arms and pain in their past. Miss Granger was a magnificent woman, that much was obvious. She should have been spending her last year at Hogwarts cramming for her N.E.W.T.S and drinking Butterbeer in Hogsmeade, not sitting in a hospital bed with a gash in her leg and nightmares sabotaging her sleep.

Donna was waiting for her friend to speak, knowing he would say the right thing. Smith's eyes were filled with compassion and worry. He took a deep breath before he started talking.

"They're just dreams Hermione, I hope you know that." The sorceress's head shot up, and she stared at her teacher, her eyebrows furrowing. "Nothing more than horrible dreams plaguing your brilliant mind. I'm sorry that this happened to you. I'm so, so sorry. But I promise that I will find what ever did this to you. I will not let it hurt you again."

Hermione wanted to protest that she could take care of herself, but she didn't feel the need to. It was nice, having someone look out for her. To make sure that she stayed safe. The witch imagined not having to worry about this beast any longer. She visualized sitting in the Common Room, reading a book, not worrying about Hogwarts, like a normal student for a change. It seemed almost impossible, to sit back and let someone solve the mystery for once.

But she couldn't. The teenager was too stubborn and too curious to not know what left the bruises on her neck. Hermione vowed to find out what happened in the woods that night, some way or another.

"But this is urgent," Smith was saying, his hand making a slight O, "And I mean this Miss Granger. Do not get involved, please. I can handle this, and I do not want you getting hurt. You've had enough pain for a lifetime. And if I'm right about these things, which I usually am, this is unlike anything you've ever come across. So please, _please_, stay away from this."

She didn't get angry. It would be nice, to sit back and relax. And she so desperately wanted to. But how could she? With years of meddling and researching, it just came natural. Hermione wanted to know what that thing was, and she wasn't going to let a skinny little man stop her.

"What do you mean, unlike anything I've ever come across?" The witch asked after a moment, "Believe it or not Professor, I've seen plenty of things."

Smith's eyes saddened for a moment at that comment. He quickly licked his bottom lip and straightened slightly, "I know that, believe me I do. But I'm more experienced in certain areas."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and glanced at Professor Noble. The redhead was smirking, but other than that; she was completely calm. She believed and agreed with every syllable that came out of her friend's mouth. The witch looked down at her hands, thoughts clouding her mind.

Wouldn't it be great? To let Smith take over. To step aside and let someone else investigate whatever's happening at Hogwarts. She could sit in the Common Room with all of her fellow Gryffindors. The teenager could laugh along with her friends and study for her tests. For once in her Hogwarts career, she could be a normal student. Hermione Granger could just be part of the crowd. As impossible and amazing as that seemed, she couldn't. She couldn't just not meddle, it was in her blood. Besides, Harry would be horrified if she didn't try to solve this problem. Her eyes flickered back and forth between her, for lack of a better word, friends.

"I don't know what you want me to say." The witch confessed. She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead, wanting the pounding in her head to disappear.

Smith knew how she was struggling to obey him, to not interfere. But she had to. He couldn't be responsible for another death, he just couldn't. The teacher ran his hand through his hair. Why? Why of all the students it had to be this one? The cleverest. The most curious. Why couldn't it be some first-year that would listen him no matter what? Because life was difficult, no other reason.

Hermione waited for a response patiently. Smith looked at his friend before stating, "I need you to say, 'Of course, Professor Smith. I'll do whatever you ask, because I would hate to make your life difficult and put mine in danger.'"

The witch was only slightly taken aback. She took a breath, straightening her back. The teachers both raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Professor Smith. I'll do whatever you ask, because I would hate to make your life difficult and put mine in danger." She imitated him perfectly, stressing each word that he did and even copied his accent. The witch had to hold back her grin.

Smith smiled ever so slightly, shaking his head. He glanced at his friend's sassy grin, and he looked down at his student. All the amusement was gone from his face, and his eyes were serious. "Miss Granger, I mean it. Please keep yourself safe."

Hermione swallowed back several arguments and excuses. The witch glanced at Professor Noble and sighed inaudibly. Smith raised an eyebrow, waiting for his student's response. Her eyes slid in and out of focus. The witch bit her bottom lip, thinking about what to say.

The teenager looked up from her hands and locked eyes with her superior. She tilted her head slightly, "For now."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you guys for the patience. I'm trying to get on a writing schedule, but you guys can see how well that's turning out. I'm going to be in Louisville all of next week, so won't get much writing done, sadly._

_Anyway, kind of a slow chapter. Not really worth the wait, but I hope you like it all the same._

_..._

Chapter Three

The next week flew by, which was fine by Hermione. Her leg was still aching, which was annoying. Her head kept pounding, which messed with her studies. Most nights, the teenager retired early because she just wanted to escape the pounding for a few hours. Rumors kept circulating, which made the teenager want to slap each person who saw her and then proceeded to whisper behind their hands.

The teenager found herself out by the lake quite often. She liked watching the tentacles of the giant squid appear out of the water. Hermione enjoyed the slight breeze that was always around the Black Lake. She liked her little tree and the fresh air. She sat alone with her thoughts and books. The teenager felt at peace there. But when October finally started to act like October, the sorceress was forced back into the castle. Unless she wanted to freeze to death.

Her patience was growing thin, and the witch was slightly abusing her Prefect powers. Snapping at people for being too loud or snickering when they saw her. People were learning to gossip about her when she wasn't in earshot. Soon, the common room became silent whenever she entered it. Hermione wasn't too upset when Saturday rolled around again, until she remembered that she had detention with Professor Smith.

The day flew by. Soon, she had no homework to do, no notes to study, no people to talk to or punish. The sun was setting, and the witch's time was up. Hermione swept her eyes over the Gryffindor tower once more before hobbling out from behind the portrait. Her leg wasn't as heavily bandaged as before, but it was nearly impossible to walk without looking foolish. The teenager could hardly bend her knee without a stabbing pain shooting up her leg.

By the time Hermione arrived at the Astronomy tower, her leg was aching and her temper was high. The witch knocked curtly on the wooden door which opened in less than three seconds. Smith appeared with the biggest grin on his face, and his hair sticking straight up. The teenager was taken aback slightly.

"Miss Grang-ah!." He announced, that goofy smile still glued on his face, "I was just checking my watch, seeing when you would come."

The student looked at her own watch then. It was five past seven. Hermione knit her eyebrows and opened her mouth to say something. But she never got the chance. Her teacher grabbed her arm and steered the witch into his classroom. She would've had trouble keeping up with Smith without her injury, but with her leg bandaged; Hermione was practically being dragged across the classroom. But Smith took no notice. He just took long steps towards his office at a very quick pace.

The witch struggled to not stumble, and she tried to not let the pain in her leg get the best of her. Smith opened his office door and happily entered. He pushed away from his student, who was left wobbling slightly in the middle of the entryway. His coat trailed out behind him, and her professor was wearing his blue suit that day. Smith fiddled with several objects and trinkets before even addressing Hermione again.

It didn't really matter to her. She was too busy examining the room that would be the source of her suffering for the next however long. The teenager's swept over the room finding…nothing really. No pictures, no decorations. A few strange, fascinating machines sitting on her teacher's desk, but nothing more. It was bare, and that bothered Hermione. Why wouldn't he go through the trouble of making his temporary home feel less temporary? It felt almost like a prison cell, the cold, blank walls pressing in and making everything seem more depressing than it actually was. In the very back of the office, there was a wooden door that Hermione assumed lead to the bedroom. The witch bit her bottom lip. She slightly hoped his bedroom would at least be interesting. She couldn't imagine a man like him not having anything fascinating at all.

"Now!" Her teacher's sharp voice snapped the witch out of her observing. His hands were planted on his desk, and Smith was smiling slightly, "Time for your punishment. Well, no, I don't really like that word. Too cruel. Sentence? Nah. How 'bout-"

"Professor." Hermione was smiling, finally getting use to this crazy man, "Never mind the title. Can you tell me what I need to do?"

"Right, 'course. Over here Miss Granger." He gestured to the chair in front of him.

Hermione started to hobble over, wincing slightly. But her teacher didn't really pay much attention. He was messing with one of his trinkets, facing away from his student. Smith didn't look up until the teenager was sitting in the fairly comfortable chair. The witch wasn't positive, but she had a feeling her professor adverted his focus so she didn't have to worry about looking weak. Whether it was accidental or not, Hermione was still grateful.

Her wand was out. Force of habit, and it made her feel more comfortable. It was twirling between her fingers when Smith finally looked up. He grinned at his student and tossed his trinket behind him. Hermione jumped slightly when she heard the contraption break. She stared up at Professor Smith, a question sculpting her mouth.

A knock at the door interrupted the witch's train of thought. Hermione sighed, frustrated slightly. She could tell then, it was going to be a very long night. She rubbed her temples while Smith went to check the door. She visualized her head exploding from all of the pressure inside it, and that didn't make the witch feel any better.

"Ah Donna!" That was the exclamation that had Hermione turning around, her eyebrows raised. The redhead entered, a tray filled with teacups and little cakes. She was smiling wide. Her hair was in a bun, and she was adorned in green robes.

The witch turned away, confusion making her brain ache even more. What-Where was Smith going with this? Couldn't he just be normal for once? But of course not, that would make life too simple.

The tin tray slammed onto the desk, and Hermione jerked her head up. The teachers were chatting. Useless conversations between friends that would be forgotten in an hour. Professor Noble was stirring the tea, and Smith was stacking the cakes into a little pyramid. They were both laughing, not a care in the world. Hermione felt her awkwardness grow. To be ignored during detention before even receiving a task was a new level of shame. The witch stared at her knees, a habit she fell into around this pair.

Her teachers still indirectly ignored her. The teenager's lip started curling. Couldn't the skinny man just tell her what to do? He talked all the time, sprouting off a few words shouldn't be that hard. The witch glared at the redhead and thin man.

"Excuse me." Hermione said not politely. The advisors stopped talking at once and looked over at the witch, "Sorry to interrupt your tea party, but I think I should know what my punishment is now."

There was a short silence. Smith glanced at his best friend and then he smiled, "So sorry Hermione, you're right." He set down his cup, but immediately picked up another, "How do you take your tea?"

The teenager blinked stupidly. Her mouth was open slightly. No matter how hard she tried, the witch could not get a grip on this man. He was so outrageous, it was impossible to understand him.

"My-my tea?" She repeated.

"Yeah. Tea. The wonderful British drink? How do you like yours? Sugar? Extra sugar? Extra, extra sugar? No sugar? Or are you a rebel and go for sweetener?"

Hermione glanced at the redhead. Professor Noble was eating a cake, barely listening to her friend. The witch didn't understand how Smith's friend wasn't insane yet. She focused her attention on her Astronomy teacher, staring into those impossibly old eyes.

"Sugar, please." The teenager said after a moment.

Smith grinned wolfishly at his student. He fixed Hermione's cup while Professor Noble offered her little cakes. The witch glanced briefly before taking one. She hesitantly bit into the pastry. Her mind was becoming more and more muddled. There was an intense pounding behind her left eyebrow, and the witch had never wanted to get back to the common room faster.

Professor Smith handed the teenager her cup which she stiffly accepted. Not knowing what else to do, the witch took a sip. She was taken aback slightly. She didn't expect the beverage to be good tasting. Hermione narrowed her eyes, what was he playing at? This was detention, not a get-together. Why could he just make sense for once?

The teenager hurriedly finished her drink, wanting to get that night over with. Her teachers were still chatting, but they weren't as engrossed in the conversation as before. When Hermione set her glass in the saucer, Smith's head shot up and looked over at his student.

"Ah! You're finished! Refill?" The teacher held up a flower printed teapot, his eyebrows raised.

"No thank you." Her irritation was starting to grow again, but she forced it back down. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to know what I need to do for my detention."

Smith grinned again, and Hermione's lips thinned. Could he stop smiling for two minutes and assign her something already? The witch just wanted to study for her Herbology exam, but she couldn't do that until she got out of that Godforsaken classroom.

"Why Miss Granger, this _is_ your detention. Joining Donna and I for an evening tea.

"Sorry, what?" Hermione said after a moment. She was convinced that her Astronomy teacher was going to break her sanity in the non-too distant future.

"Miss Granger, do you really think this man was going to make you clean telescopes with a…a toothbrush or something?" Professor Noble was smiling warmly, amusement clearly etched on her face.

"Well…no. I just though…since I disobeyed-"

"Oh, who cares about rules? What's life without a little risk?" Smith was sitting on his desk, his long legs swinging back and forth. "And besides, you saved my life. I'm not going to punish you for that."

Hermione stared at her teachers, barely able to hide the confusion and shock that she felt. These two…they were unlike anything the witch had ever encountered before. That was saying something. But despite their uniqueness and complete and utter insanity, they were….great. Fantastic even.

Hermione smiled honestly for the first time in front of her new teachers, "Thank you sir."

Her professor cringed slightly, "Please, don't-don't call me that. I hate being called sir. Too grown up. Do I look like a sir to you?" Hermione shook her head, still smiling, "And I hate saluting too. Don't ever salute me Hermione Granger or I will make sure your next detention is a horrible one.

"Yes sir." The witch was smirking. She brought her hand to her forehead and gave her teacher a stiff salute.

Professor Smith's face morphed into an expression of exasperation. There was an undertone of fury, like he couldn't believe he didn't see that coming. But Smith couldn't keep away his grin. The teacher ran his hands through his crazy hair, laughing slightly. "Detention for seventy five Saturdays."

Hermione laughed along with her teachers. After a moment's silence, Professor Noble piped up. "Would you like more tea Hermione?"

"That'd be great actually." Noble refilled the pink, flowery cup and the witch happily took a sip. "Thank you professor."

The red head smiled and sat on the desk next to Smith. She grabbed her own cup and took a drink. Hermione could feel the awkwardness in the air. She was struggling for something to say when Smith exploded, "Did I ever mention the lost moon of Poosh in class before?"

The witch was a little startled at his outburst. She slowly shook her head. Her professor grinned. He set down his teacup and started going off on this tangent about this moon of some planet that Hermione never heard of. Professor Noble was listening intently, and Hermione couldn't help but be interested too.

But that lost moon wasn't the only thing that was discussed between that small ensemble of people. Soon, the candles were wearing down and the teapot was empty. But those three brilliant people were still talking away, never running out of things to discuss or stories to tell. Smiles glued to their faces, their eyes shining.

That was the happiest Hermione had been since her return to Hogwarts. She didn't really have friends this term, much to her disappointment. Yes, there was Ginny. But she had Quidditch all of the time, and she already had her own set of friends. Hermione had never talked to the year younger than her, not really. So now, it was just awkward. Really, when it came down to it, Hagrid was her only friend. But Hermione only ever really saw him at mealtimes or weekends.

But talking to these two crazy people put the young witch in a greater mood. Hermione felt comfortable with them, and she just hoped and wished they thought the same way. She didn't want to embarrass herself by thinking her teachers actually liked her, when they didn't. That had happened to her before, and it still made the sorceress go red by thinking of it.

It was very late into the night when Hermione's eyes started to itch. Professor Noble started yawning, but Professor Smith was still as energetic as before. The witch wasn't sure if that man ever got tired. The teenager checked her watch and felt a jolt of disappointment. It was getting extremely late. She needed to head back to the commons room before Filch started lurking for students out of bed.

Professor Noble had the same idea. She hit her friend's shoulder, "Oi, Spaceman, I don't know about you but I'm exhausted. And I think Miss Granger agrees with me."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow, Spaceman? There has to be a story behind that one. But it didn't really matter at the moment. The teenager just wanted to be in her cozy bed, maybe reading a book or gazing out of her window. She gave her teacher a grateful look and stood up.

"Thank you both for the tea and great stories, but I do need to get to sleep."

The pair of them smiled. "Good night Miss Grang-ah." Smith smiled, his crow's eyes standing out.

Hermione couldn't help but return the grin, "Goodnight Professor Smith, Professor Noble."

The witch was hobbling away when Smith called, "Yeaaah, I don't really like the term Professor either." Hermione scoffed, turning back, her hands on her hips, "I'd be preferred to be called by something else actually."

"What could that be?"

Professor Noble glanced at her friend, her eyes widened slightly. But her eyebrows were furrowed. It gave Hermione some confidence to know that even his closest friends didn't have him figured out either.

"The Doctor if you don't mind."

"Doctor what?" Hermione couldn't figure out why he'd want to be called that. It had to have some significance. It could just be something completely random. Who picks something like the _Doctor_ for their nickname? But with all honesty, it didn't surprise Hermione too much.

"Just the Doctor, if you don't mind. But don't call me that in class. Just when it's the three of us. Or else it might become awkward."

"It'll be just the three of us again?" A tiny spark of hope ignited in the teenager's chest. Maybe she did make some new friends after all.

"I hope so." Smith's smile was back again. "With a mind like yours, I'd hate to not get to know the person responsible for that type of cleverness. And, with all of the trouble brewing, I have a very strong feeling we're both going to want to figure out what that thing was."

That was the first time the creature was mentioned since their meeting in the hospital. Hermione was slightly shocked he brought it up, to be completely honest. "You'd be correct there. I do want to know what it was…Doctor."

Smith's grin widened, "Brilliant. Now, you should be getting to bed, give that mind like yours a rest."

The witch nodded, her lips turned upwards. She nodded to her professors, "Night then."

"You don't have to call me Professor either." Professor Noble said sassily, "I don't have a name as fancy as the Doctor, but I think Donna will do."

"Donna and the Doctor?" Hermione tried it out, "Any reason you two don't like your titles?

The friends glanced at each other, "Never much of the Professor type." Donna said after a moment, shrugging.

"Fair enough." Hermione's leg was starting to throb again, and she really wanted to get to her bed. She gave her new friends a stiff smile. "Goodnight _Doctor_ and _Donna_. Don't let the Daleks bite."

While leaving the classroom, Hermione could swear she head the distinct sound of a hand hitting the backside of someone's head.

...

The Doctor and Donna were walking in the corridor. Shadows danced on the wall, the people in their portraits snoozed happily, and the friends were shivering slightly. Their voices were hushed, and they both were a little paranoid to be walking around in the large castle at night. But neither of them wanted to voice it.

"What was that Spaceman?" Donna hissed when she knew that Hermione was well out of ear shot.

"What?" He cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Her nostrils were slightly flared, and her hair was falling out of her bun. The Doctor's hearts surged slightly when he looked at his friend. He was so grateful to have Donna. Even with her sassiness and loudness, she was such a kindhearted person. He loved laughing with this crazy redhead. He didn't even really mind the murderous glare in her green eyes.

"Where in your thick head did you think it'd be a good idea to let Hermione call you the Doctor?"

"I just thought that it would help her trust us." The Doctor lifted a tapestry, and Donna immediately ducked behind it. "I haven't asked any other student to call me that, nor will I ever. Well, more than likely. We'll have to see. Anyway, it'll show Hermione that I trust her, and then maybe she'll trust us back."

"You still think she doesn't trust us?" Donna was staring at the thick key in her hand. She groped the wall behind the woven picture until she found a knob. Taking the key, the redhead fought with the door before it swung open creakily.

"Of course not." In the dark, silent corridor, the Doctor wasn't afraid to use his sonic. He scooped up the torch that was always laying near the door, and a fire blazed with a flick of his screwdriver. The time lord grinned, proud of his device.

The companions started walking again, "But can you blame her Donna? Think about what she went through. That second war. Her, Harry and Ron living on their own for months. Danger around every corner."

"So, it was like traveling with you…but without the traveling'?" Donna grinned, happy to tease whenever she could.

"Oi!" The Doctor shouted, not offended in the slightest. "And yes…essentially. But our Miss Granger had it so much worse. So, so much worse. Of course," The time lord sniffed loudly, "You should know that…you've read the books haven't you?"

Donna glanced at her best friend, "What books?" She asked slowly.

The Doctor gaped, astonished, "The Harry Potter books? Million dollar franchise. J.K. Rowling…? Is any of this ringing a bell?"

Donna was shaking her head, hating the feeling of not knowing something the Doctor did. She crossed her arms, "There are books about that Potter fellow? How is there a real Hogwarts?"

"How have you not heard of the Harry Potter Series?" The Time Lord asked loudly, ignoring his friend's question. They turned a corner, and there sat the TARDIS. Tucked away in the secret passageway that couldn't be seen unless the Doctor wanted you to. "It's a fantastic series. Where have you been the last ten years?"

"Oi!" Donna shouted taking the torch and putting it in its holder, "I dunno 'bout you Spaceman, but I haven't had time to read about this place. I've had more important things to do."

"Like?" The Doctor opened the door to his beloved TARDIS. He swung inside, immediately running to the console.

"Oh you know…Temping…Dieting…Drinking with Nerys and such. Very busy lifestyle. No time for…nerdy things." Donna grinned slightly.

Her best friend laughed, "That's a problem for another day, it's not our biggest issue. We need Hermione on our side. Sooo," The Doctor had his hands glued to the railing behind him, and he was leaning extremely far forward, "That is why I told her my name. To gain her trust. Because we need that young witch."

Donna bit her bottom lip, thinking, "Okay, fair enough. But she's not going to be much help if neither of us knows what that thing is…so what is it?"

"I don't know Donna." His top lip started to curl, and he screamed out, "And I _hate, I HATE _not knowing." He was by the console, both of his hands buried into his hair, his face full of anger and distress, "What can turn itself into a shadow and attack young witches? I haven't got that faintest idea and apparently, neither does my TARDIS."

He kicked the side of the console, and guilt immediately filled his face. He touched the reality stabilizer gently, "I'm so sorry old girl. Don't be mad at me."

His beloved machine made a reassuring noise, and he knew he was forgiven. The Doctor sighed and looked back at his friend. Donna hadn't moved, nor did she look surprised at his outburst. He smiled warmly at the redhead, "What about you Donna, what do you think it is?"

His companion scoffed, "Come off it Doctor. I'm a temp. I don't know anything about this stuff." The Time Lord didn't move, waiting for her to say something. Anything. She sighed, "Well, it sounds like…I mean, it resembles the Vasha Nerada. Except they joined together to make a visible form or something."

His eyes widened, "What if…what if they could do that?" Donna could see the energy that was starting to flow through him, "What if those shadows evolved and now they can be seen? What if with their new body, they learned strength and agility? What if-"

"What _if_ " Donna interrupted, "I'm way off course and that suggestion was stupid?" The redhead smiled, "Doctor, there's no point in overthinking this right now. Well, _you_ can. I'm going to bed."

He watched her go, his expression a little sad. When Donna's hair whisked around the corner, the Time Lord dived towards his console. He knelt to the floor and threw open a latch. After dragging out an extremely old trunk, he started rummaging through it. At long last, one of his favorite books was lying in his hands.

Walking to the yellow chairs, his glasses on, the Doctor sat down and started to reread the first book in the Harry Potter series.


	4. Chapter 4

_I am so sad I didn't get my Halloween chapter up on Halloween. But only one day off, so not too bad._ _I hope you guys like this chapter. They're steadily getting shorter because I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this story. But it'll kick butt, 'cause I am amazing, haha_

_Thank you to everybody who has reviewed, that makes me happy, and just thanks to everybody who has read it. That also makes me happy. And don't be afraid to give me ideas, Lord knows I need 'em._

_Thanks again and enjoy!_

_..._

Chapter Four

Before Hermione knew it, it was Halloween. The days were shorter, the nights colder. The Forbidden Forest was a beautiful mixture of yellows, oranges and reds, all swirled together in a perfect combination. The witch couldn't say that she wasn't looking forward to the feast. She hadn't seen those floating pumpkins and bats in her Great Hall since her sixth year. The witch was ready for a Halloween feast.

She wasn't the only one. A majority of the students slowly counted down the days until Halloween. The ghosts were making more appearances, and Peeves was taking every opportunity to scare as many people as possible. Professor Smith had to be the most excited out of all of them. His classroom was the only one to have decorations of its own. Jack-o-Lanterns, fake cobwebs with plastic spiders, stupid little ghosts, skeletons. It looked like a cheap, Muggle haunted house. And all of the students loved it. Some witches and wizards were reminded of their childhood Halloweens, and the teenagers who didn't experience trick-or-treating found amusement in the decorations that Muggles possessed. Smith let students use charms to carve their own pumpkins, if they so desired. Silly smiley faces, works of art, and dancing Jack-o-Lanterns filled the tower. They didn't learn anything the week before Halloween besides Muggle traditions and how to discard of pumpkin guts.

The best part was Smith himself. He had forgotten, temporarily, about his blue and brown suit. About ten days before Hollow's Eve, he started wearing a different outfit. Not even necessarily a costume. It looked as if he went to the very back of his closet and found the most ridiculous thing to wear during each class. On the fourth day, he wore a long brown coat with a scarf that had to have been sixty feet long with a mahogany colored hat. The scarf was wrapped three times around Smith's neck and it spilled onto the floor, trailing behind him. One plastic decoration was filled with Jelly Babies, which Smith kept offering. and The day before the feast, he wore a leather jacket that was several sizes too large for his skinny frame and a purple v-neck. That day, the teacher was extremely sassy, and he said "Fantastic" in almost every sentence.

The students had fun guessing what he would wear each day, and they were always off. This was the crazy thing that Professor Smith did that really got his students to like him. He was so insane and outrageous. The Astronomy teacher was the only adult that would wear silly looking outfits and let his room get sprayed with the insides of pumpkins. He was really the only teacher who didn't, well, act like a teacher. He would tell jokes in class, and _talk_ to his students. He'd ask each class about their day, and Smith would let them have study periods. He seemed like he actually cared about his students' wellbeing instead of teaching them about stars and planets.

Even though no one really liked Astronomy, it was everybody's favorite class.

On Halloween, Smith was back to wearing his brown suit with matching coat, much to several students' disappointment. His hair was spiked normally, and that classic grin was on his face. When Hermione asked him about all the crazy outfits, he just said, "Wanted to feel like my old selves again."

With that in her head, Hermione made her way down to the feast. Her leg was healed except for a long, thin scratch, and her bruises were fading away. The witch almost felt as good as new. Her headaches still came and went, and the creature still haunted her dreams. But overall, she was fine. Happy even. The teenager wanted nothing more than to sit at her House table and eat some wonderful food prepared by the loyal house-elves.

She sat next to Ginny, having the first meal in days where she actually talked to her redheaded friend. The Great Hall roared with conversation, and all of Smith's pumpkins were hovering above the tables. The witch was smiling fully, and she felt happy. Honestly happy. Hermione rejoiced in the feeling, knowing that it really couldn't last long. Her mind flashed back on her first Hogwart's Halloween. The ugly troll emerged into her mind, and the witch couldn't help grinning.

Drinking out of her goblet, Hermione's eyes flickered over to the teacher's table. Smith-the _Doctor_- caught the witch's eye. He gave her an exaggerated wink and a wolfish grin. The teenager laughed into her drink. A thin, white hand smacked the man, and Donna's laugh was clearly heard over all of the chatter. Hermione felt a twinge of sadness, wishing she could be next to her new friends enjoying this feast.

"You all right Hermione?" Ginny's voice had the brilliant witch turning away from the head table. Her friend's eyes swooped from where Hermione was just looking, and they locked on her friend.

The witch knit her eyebrows, "'Course…why wouldn't I be?"

The redhead bit her lip, looking down at her knees. Hermione stiffened her back, knowing that this wasn't going to be a fun conversation. "I dunno. You've been distant lately. And everybody knows you've been hangin' 'round those two." She gestured towards Donna and Smith, her brown eyes filled with concern. "What's that all about anyway? You don't even talk to me anymore. You just sit in your chair reading or talking to the weird one."

Hermione felt a little insulted when Ginny said the last bit. "Weird one." Sure, the Smith-Doctor fellow was abnormal, but who said that was a bad thing? The witch groaned inwardly. She knew she was getting herself into trouble if she started defending that skinny man.

A minute of silence passed before she spoke again, "I'm not sure Ginny. But, in my defense, it's not like I see you much either." The teenager wasn't hateful in her speaking, and that hurt Ginny in a surprising way. "You have Quidditch, and I never really got along with the students in _your _grade anyway."

Hermione smiled sadly. She pushed back her thick mane of hair and sighed, "And as for talking with Smith and Noble? That's nothing really. It's like us with Hagrid, or even Harry with Remus." The witch knew she was being somewhat untruthful, but at the same time, there was no other way to describe the relationship between her and her teachers. "What I-"

The doors at the end of the Great Hall burst open, a strong gust of wind flowing through the open doors. The candles floating above the students and teachers flickered out, and the room was plunged into darkness. The blackness made the silence more deafening. No one moved, no one breathed, too afraid of what might burst through the now open doors. A rogue troll, a dementor or, what was really plaguing everyone's thoughts, a Death Eater.

Hermione removed herself from the bench, slowly standing up. No one paid her any attention; the students couldn't even see her. The witch clasped her wand in her slightly shaky hand. Lighting flickered once above head, and a silhouette appeared for the shortest of seconds. The witch's eyes widened and she pointed her wand upwards and swept her arm across the hall. The candles happily lit and filled the dining room with a healthy glow.

All the students and teachers blinked, startled by the light. A few embarrassed laughs filled the air, and several witches' and wizards' cheeks burned red. To be afraid of the a little wind, how ridiculous. The chatter started up again as if nothing happened. The sorceress was still standing in the aisle, no one giving her a second thought.

Forgetting about dinner, she hurried out of the Great Hall, trying not to sprint. The teenager burst into the Entrance Hall, looking for anything out of the ordinary. But nothing stood out. It was lit by the lanterns, and Nearly Headless Nick was humming under his breath. Nothing unusual. Exasperated, Hermione walked towards the nearest moving staircase. Her brain was pounding again, and her irritation was growing. Why did the doors open? They were thick, solid doors. They don't just swing open because a gust of wind came by.

Something moved in Hermione's peripheral vision. The witch froze, her wand at the ready. She glanced to her left and saw the extended shadow of something at the end of a corridor. Her heart beating faster than usual, the sorceress crept down the hallway, her back nearly against the wall.

All of the books she had checked out on shadow creatures came flooding back to her. What could this thing, if it was the creature, possibly be? It couldn't be anything new. There wasn't really any magical beasts out there that didn't have a name. Unless…unless this was the exception. This spiteful creature could be something that the wizarding world had never seen before. Hermione bit her lip. Maybe-

She stopped cold, her heart crawling in her throat. There wasn't a single light in the hallway. It seemed too dark, impossibly dark. Hermione ignited the tip of her wand, and she gasped quietly. The witch was standing in a completely destroyed corridor. Every portrait, every tapestry, every suit of armor was ripped and torn to pieces. Water soaked the floor, and it seeped into Hermione's shoes. Dumbfounded, the teenager stumbled forward, unable to process the destruction around her. She tripped over scraps of metal and wooden frames, barely glancing to see if anything was hidden.

But torn pictures weren't the only thing in the hallway. The witch squinted her eyes, which then widened with realization. The sorceress yelled out, hoping that she was wrong. She had to be wrong. Fear gripping her chest, she sprinted down the hallway, shadows of the broken objects moving with her wand. Skidding on her knees, the witch shone the light over the terrible sight.

"No." Hermione whispered, turning the young girl over on her back. The Ravenclaw was deathly pale, bruises standing out on her neck. Her chest wasn't moving. The teenager's mind went blank, horror filling her bloodstream. "No. N-help!"

She couldn't leave the poor girl, and hysteria was eating away at her heart. The witch clutched the stranger to her chest, nearly sobbing, "HELP ME! HELP, SOMEBODY."

Calling, never-ending calling. Tear-streaked and heartbroken for the girl she didn't know, the witch was so relieved when she heard footsteps. But really, what did it matter? The girl was gone, the witch knew that much. A warm hand pulled at her shoulder, but the teenager couldn't move. Those same warm hands lifted the witch up enough to drag her away from the young witch, and Hermione didn't fight. Trying to pull herself together, the teenager looked up at Professor Smith.

Emotionless. That's a word that the Doctor didn't think he's ever use to describe Hermione. His eyes were better than humans, and he could see the young girl perfectly. Her robes were soaked, her knees bloody, and her eyes were red. But there wasn't a trace of anger for the girl's death or determination to find the thing that did it. The witch looked defeated and heartbroken if you looked hard enough, but she was putting up one hell of a fight not to show it.

Without being asked, the Gryffindor relayed how and why she left the Great Hall, the destroyed corridor and limp girl at the end. She didn't even notice the other teachers with their lit wands in the background listening to her story. Hermione didn't care. What did it matter? This girl was dead because she wasn't quick enough. It was hear fault, completely. If she had run faster…or even, if the witch had killed that thing two weeks ago. This wouldn't have happened.

Donna knelt behind Hermione and draped an arm around her. Gently lifting the witch onto her feet, Professor Noble started steering her student back towards the common room. Her heart was heavy, and her stomach churned. How could anything hurt a poor little girl? She was only about twelve, it wasn't fair. Donna felt tears clog her throat, and she gave Hermione a squeeze.

The witch froze. Afraid she did something wrong, Donna opened her mouth to say something. In a flurry of movements, the teenager pushed herself away from Donna and was pointing her wand at the ceiling. Confused and extremely frightened, Professor Noble, along with the other teachers, followed Hermione's wand.

Donna's mouth dropped open at the sight. A black…thing hovered above near the ceiling, impossibly still. It didn't even have a face, just black. Nothing. The redhead felt Hermione trembling, and when she glanced at her favorite student; there was anger etched onto the witch's face. An anger that the redhead had seen before, except, instead, on a certain Time Lord that was standing behind her.

Not even breathing, the sorceress whipped her arm forward, a sharp ray of white light hitting the shadow. It scattered into a million different pieces before forming into a body again. The teachers started yelling as the creature flew upon the witch, screaming it's horrible scream.

Hermione rolled away, crashing into the wall. Her head snapped up, looking for the creature. When she saw the thing, the witch chased after it, anger and adrenaline filling her veins and snuffing out her fear. This thing had been haunting her dreams for weeks! It killed this young girl, and it was not going to hurt anybody else. The witch was determined. Water soaking her back, the sorceress fired spell after spell, hitting the target each time.

All the creature did was split into dozens of pieces and form together again. It never faltered or slowed down. It would materialize behind the witch then fly to the ceiling again. The teachers were throwing hexes, but it wasn't doing any good. The thing kept returning, gaining more and more energy. Lights lit up the hallway in a melody of colors, the teachers' shouting echoing in the small space. The creature vanished once again and appeared about twenty feet away. Hermione yelled, pointing her trusty wand at the heart of the creature.

A graceful otter emerged from the tip of her weapon, swirling through the air. It circled around the shadow, illuminating the corridor with an impossible glow. Breathing hard, Hermione watched as her Patronus extinguished the creature. A terrible, ear-splitting squeal echoed throughout the hallway as the shadow melted away, and the scream could be vaguely heard in the Great Hall.

After a burst of light, the shadow was gone, for now. Hermione had tears in her eyes, hating that even though this thing had killed a girl, it was in pain. It could never see light, never feel its warmth. The witch took a deep breath, angry and helpless. She cursed herself. _Don't defend the creature Granger_, she thought furiously,

Stiffening her shoulders, the sorceress turned to look at her Headmistress. A frown was etched onto the woman's face, and a haunting look in her brown eyes. A look that the Doctor knew too well. An expression that had war, loss, fear and so much more hidden in it. A look that the Time Lord saw every time he glanced in a mirror. Hermione tilted her head up slightly.

"Do I have detention again next Saturday, Headmistress?"

...

She did not, in fact, have detention the following Saturday, but Hermione was punished enough. Her heart was twisted along with her stomach, and the castle was too quiet. Everyone, the teachers, students, people who didn't even know the girl existed mourned. Black was draped throughout the school for days leading up to the funeral. It was honorary, respectful, and extremely heartbreaking. The girl's family made an appearance on their way to collect the body; her moms and three brothers. The family walked away from the Great Hall with tears streaming down their faces.

The girl was named Ellie MacDonald. She was a second year, top of her class. Muggleborn, bright, and Ellie always had a book in her hand. Actually, not very far from where Hermione found Ellie laid a book. _Hogwarts: A History _was shredded, several of its pages missing. She had been hurrying to the Great Hall, trying to get to the feast, and the thing had appeared and chased her down the hallway. At least, that's the scene that woke Hermione up everyday. The witch's heard would be pounding, tears staining her cheeks. She can never go back to sleep after that.

No one really knew who started the rumors, but people were comparing the two girls in the corridor an awful lot. They had so many similar traits, they even had the same thick hair and brown eyes. Although, Ellie's hair was more tame. What if, the students speculated, the creature killed the MacDonald girl because she was so much like the famous Hermione Granger? After all, she got away, and that creature had to have been angry. What if that poor, poor girl's death happened solely because the two girls had so much in common?

Hermione asked herself these questions every night before she went to bed. And she did blame herself, on different levels every time she reviewed that night in her head. The witch had circles under her eyes, and her homework wasn't as magnificent as it usually was. The teachers didn't give her too much leeway. At first, the professors sympathized, telling her it would be okay. But now, it had been two and a half weeks, the sorceress needed to get over it or else she'd really fall behind.

Smith and Donna were the only ones who gave her a break. They let her work at her own pace and turn things in late. They saw the horror behind the wall the witch built. They understood the guilt and blame all too well. They hated the way Hermione stopped answering questions in class, the energy disappearing from her face so easily. And that was a main reason why Donna scheduled another mini tea party, to get the girl's mind off of the incident.

The Doctor was proud of himself. He got the witch to laugh exactly three times over an hour and a half. And, with all things considering, that was very good. Hermione barely drank her tea, and she didn't even touch her cake. The Doctor noticed the hollowness in the teenager's cheeks, and he hated it. What did this girl do to deserve this life? She had fought in a war already, and now Hermione was facing another, smaller one. It was eating her away, and the Doctor was legibly frightened at what that could do to the witch.

"Hermione." The Time Lord leaned forward, after another awkward silence, his hands joining together, "It-"

"Don't say it Doctor." She was switching back from "Doctor" and "Professor" quite often. But the witch was steadily calling the skinny man "Doctor" more and more. "Don't you dare say it, or I will hex your nose off."

Her eyes burned, and she looked away from the man in front of her. He didn't understand, how could he? This twig didn't get how horrible it was to be too late, to know that if her feet would've moved a bit faster; that girl would still be alive. Hermione's chest clenched painfully, and tears threatened to spill over. She wouldn't let them. The witch couldn't cry, not now. Not in front of this man who didn't understand how it feels to let a life be taken away.

The Time Lord didn't even flinch. He grabbed the girl's chin and forced her to look up. His eyes flickered back and forth, burning with intensity. "It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. No one is to blame except for that _thing._ I can promise you Hermione, I _promise_ you, there was nothing you could've done."

"Yes there was." She muttered, her eyes filled with angry tears. The witch pulled away from her teacher, "Of course there was. There's always something to be done, a way to help. I was just too late. I didn't run quick enough."

Hermione set her teacup on the desk, done with the conversation. A thought of a certain hidden passageway crept into her mind, somewhere nice and quiet. Where no one could stare at her. Right then, it sounded like heaven. The witch stood up, her eyes itchy with unshed tears.

"Thank you for the tea, but I have to go. Homework and all." Both of her teachers' faces fell, sadness creeping into their eyes. The friends glanced at each other before staring sadly at their student.

The witch nodded her head slightly, avoiding eye contact. She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door that Hermione strolled through so many times. Her chest ached, and the witch really needed to be alone. A place were no one could judge her, whisper behind her back. A sanctuary. Hermione needed a sanctuary.

A hand grabbed her wrist, and the teenager whirled around, her heart thumping loudly. Smith was there, a frown carved into the young but ancient face. The witch sniffed, wiping at her nose. She felt her cheeks go red as a tear slipped over one of them. _Great,_ she thought,_ caught crying in front of a teacher. As if this wasn't awkward enough._

The teacher handed his student a handkerchief that was decorated with pink flowers. The witch laughed slightly, gladly taking the cloth. She dabbed at her eyes, but a dam inside the young woman started to crack. Swallowing back sobs that Hermione had held for two and a half weeks, she turned to leave again.

Smith grabbed her shoulders and pulled the witch into his chest. Hermione didn't pull away, extremely grateful for the embrace and comfort. Her skinny hands gripped his forearms, her nails digging into his brown suit. All of the rage and helplessness, all the sorrow and horror, the delayed shock flowed from her eyes and onto the Doctor's chest. His cheek rested on the top of the witch's bushy head. Hermione cried quietly, and his hearts clenched painfully.

The Doctor held the brilliant witch from one of his favorite stories. He let this girl fall apart, determined to help put her back together again. He could tell the teenager was embarrassed, but the Time Lord didn't think there was any shame in crying when tears needed to be shed. Although, he wished that he didn't need to comfort the girl. She trembled under his grip, and he gently rocked back and forth.

"It's okay Hermione." His voice caught slightly, and he could hear the uncertainty behind his own words. The man knew that in both of their lives, it wouldn't always be okay. He balled his hands into fists, "It's okay, you'll be alright."

The Astronomy teacher kissed Hermione's forehead and tightened his hold on his friend. Donna was next to them, rubbing the witch's back, comforting her with low words. The witch reached out and grabbed the redhead's hand, seeking comfort from her best friends. The three of them had wet eyes and heavy hearts. The Doctor knew that this wasn't the only problem that they were going to have with their little shadow creature, and he hoped that Hermione would be ready for the challenge.

But with the amount of bravery that was demonstrated already through the young witch, the Time Lord knew that she'd be more than ready. Which was good, because the Doctor needed that witch just as much as she needed him.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys. Sorry for the wait. You may want to poke my eyeballs out, seeing as this chapter is __**not**__ a very exciting one. Character development, yay!_

_Again, sorry. Excuse wise; I have cheerleading every night, homework, slight writer's block, and I'm just plain lazy. So, sorry for this dull chapter. The next one will be better, if I can get a few ideas. :-D_

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. You guys are amazing. Completely and utterly amazing, it really helps me with my writing. And those of you who haven't reviewed; you're still fantastic!_

_Hope you like it. Let me know if you have any suggestions or ideas! Thanks again._

_..._

Chapter Five

Hermione walked against the sharp wind, her covered head down and arms crossed. She could barely see five feet ahead of her, it was snowing so hard. Wind screamed in her ears and blew her hair and scarf in front of her face. Her socks would've been soaked had they not been frozen. The witch was certain that she was going to lose a r toe or maybe a part of her finger. Hermione debated turning around and heading straight back towards the castle. But she had made it that far, and the sorceress was too stubborn to turn back now.

This was the earliest that snow had come to Hogwarts, it was only the second week of November. The whole school had woken up with frost on their noses, and clouds appearing in little puffs in front of their mouths. The wonderful House-Elves had worked their hardest to make the castle nice and comfortable again, with fires roaring in every common room and extra blankets in each dormitory. But that didn't stop the outside from being absolutely terrible. Each morning, owls would appear, their feathers in all different directions, their beaks dripping with icicles. After every Herbology lesson, Madam Pomfrey was waiting for the class, blankets in hand and goblets full of hot drink on trays. All in all, Mother Nature was pretty furious.

Every student was rather surprised to find that there was still going to be a Hogsmeade trip. Hermione didn't even know why she was going. None of her friends wanted to go, it was _freezing. _They could barely leave their common room without frosting over, imagine how it'd be on the way to Zonko's. What good would come out of it anyway? If anything, they'd just get a Butterbeer and then leave. But when the witch examined it, she really just wanted a break from it all. Some nice alone time would be good for her. An hour or two away from staring eyes and whispering voices would do her good.

Slipping on ice, Hermione was hoping that the small town would appear soon. Her throat started to ache horribly, and her eyes were nearly frozen shut. Maybe that's why the teenager walked straight into a building, nearly falling into the snow. Taken aback slightly, she hugged the building, trying to ensure she wouldn't topple over. Needing to get out of the cold, she groped for a handle before throwing herself inside. Hermione's cheeks didn't have any feeling in them, and her already messy hair was windswept and crazy. She blinked snow out of her eyes, and gave a huge smile of relief. She was in The Three Broomsticks.

Hobbling towards a table, she gently sat down. She ordered a Fire Whiskey when asked, why the hell not? Hermione was of age, and besides, she could use the warmth. The witches sat with a notebook of hers, the fire slowly making her clothes damp and then dry again. It was nearly deserted; apparently not many students were as insane as her to go out in the storm. It didn't really bother Hermione, she liked being alone. And it's not like she really had a choice in the matter.

The teenager's toes were more or less defrosted, and she could feel her ears again. Drinking slowly, Hermione debated whether to try shopping with this blizzard. There was a good possibility that she'd get lost in the storm and be gone forever. She'd stumble over logs, the wind blowing her hair into her mouth. The witch smirked a little at that. If anything, she'd run into a tree and have to spend the rest of her day nursing a headache.

But it'd be wise to go shopping now than on the next Hogsmeade visit, when it was crazy busy. Hermione needed to get gifts for Christmas. She knew it was only November and not even considerably close to the holidays, but she had no idea what to get her family, along with Harry and Ron. She took a big gulp of her drink, loving the warmth it sent through her body. The witch bit her bottom lip, should she walk two miles an hour back to the school or wander through the stores looking for something to buy?

Sighing, Hermione closed her notebook that she bought at a Muggle store. She left a tip on the table, and wrapped her scarf tight around the lower half of her face, bracing herself for the outside world. Her mind was still sorting out her options, separating the cons and the pros. The landscape was nothing but a white blur, the wind screaming. The witch loved snow, she really, truly did. But this? This was a little too much.

Hermione grumbled, turning back towards the castle. She hated being defeated, even if was by a little snow. But she knew that this blizzard would get the best of her. Rather go home shivering than stay outside losing fingers. Moving unbelievably slow, the sorceress wished she could Apparate back to the common room. That'd make life a hundred times easier.

The teenager tried to focus on where her feet were, which was difficult when she could barely tell where the sky met the ground. Feeling more and more miserable, Hermione tried focusing on anything but the lack of feeling in her cheeks and thighs. Her school song popped into her head, and she started singing under her breath.

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy-Warty Hogwarts. _

_ Teach us something please._

_ Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby-_

With a gasp of surprise, the witch landed on her hands and knees, her toe aching from the rock she just tripped over. _Great,_ Hermione thought resentfully, _just what I wanted, scabby knees. _Muttering some unladylike curses, she struggled to stand up in her bulky clothes, her breath coming out a little fast. Upright, she brushed snow from her hair, squinting in the blinding landscape. That's when she noticed a black figure, barely ten feet away, moving forward.

_No_, the teenager thought, her eyes widening, _Not here, not now. Not when I can barely move._ She stumbled away, fighting for her wand. Hermione felt panic bubble in her chest, the kind of fear that leaves its victims feeling helpless and powerless. The terror that fills you up then drains you out, leaving nothing but a hollow shell left in its tracks. This thing had killed a student. A student who was in a warm environment and could run normally. What chance did Hermione have?

The witch raised her wand as the figure moved closer. Memories flashed behind her eyelids. Both encounters with this thing was still clear as day. Anger rose above the fear, just long enough for a hot beam of red energy to shoot out of the wand Hermione held. The snow surrounding the spell evaporated, and steam rose into the sky. A scarlet starburst surrounded the silhouette. The figure jerked back slightly. Hermione's hand was warm, wonderfully, wonderfully warm, and the teenager wished her body felt the same way. Maybe then she'd have a better chance of surviving.

The figure didn't stop advancing, in fact, it sped up. Long, confident strides. Frozen by fear, and, mostly, frozen by ice, the witch didn't move. She knew that running wouldn't help her in the slightest. She'd fall and twist her ankle. It was the smarter option to stay put, but it wasn't a wise one. Hermione's wand was raised, and her heart was pounding. She took a deep breath, a curse on the tip of her tongue.

"Ah!" Hermione's mouth dropped open, disbelief clogging her brain, "Miss Grang-ah! Thank you for defrosting me, I needed that. Can't go losing my toes, I need those for things…like walking. Anyway."

The teenager gaped at her slightly steaming teacher. How…how could he possibly be here? It was below freezing, in the middle of November, halfway to Hogsmeade, and Smith had steam curling off of his hair, melting the snow above him. Hermione rubbed her forehead, not even really caring about the fact that her feet had no feeling whatsoever. She squinted at the man across from her. Even though he was directly in front of Hermione, she still had trouble seeing her teacher.

"What are you doing here?!" Hermione's voice was barely heard over the wind, even though she was just about shouting.

Smith made an awkward hand motion and grabbed the witch's arm, dragging her. Her protests were scattered into the wind, and the entrance to the Three Broomsticks fell into view. Falling into the warm place she just left, Hermione sighed, slightly frustrated. She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. The Doctor paid her no attention. He was shaking fluffy snow out of his wild hair, not giving any sort of sign that he was the slightest bit cold.

Flapping his coat a bit, he finally glanced over at his student. He raised an eyebrow at her expression. He looked around the nice, little pub he was in, and his hearts sank. So, it was him that was getting that dirty look. The Doctor pressed his lips together and looked at his friend, "Cold Hermione?"

"Why did you drag me in here?" Water was running down her cheeks, dripping onto the floor, joining the rest of its kind. A huge puddle was forming, and with an impatient wave of her wand; the witch's robes dried and the water and ice vanished.

Smith nodded, clearly impressed. Magic was amazing, even if was some fake magic that couldn't really exist. He still hadn't figured that out yet. Magic wasn't real, not really. But how did they pull it off so well. How did these people do it? Mutter or think a few magic words and _poof!_ Dry clothes and clean floors. It was incredible, brilliant even.

The Doctor adverted his eyes from where he was staring, and he caught Hermione's impatient scowl. He realized he never answered her question, and his mouth fell open into a loose circle, "R-_ight_, sorry. You were saying something, and I couldn't hear you. Rather talk in a cozy pub-ish place than scream outside."

He was lying of course, he heard her perfectly fine. The Doctor just wanted to sit down and talk to the girl. No danger, no opposing threats, no grief stricken events clogging the air around them. All the Time Lord wanted was to get to actually know this girl. Find out her hobbies, learn how to make her laugh, and see out clever that mind really was. This was _Hermione Granger_, for goodness sake; the Doctor needed to know what she was really like. It wasn't often that you got to meet one of your favorite book characters.

The witch was raising an eyebrow still, "Okay. I was actually just heading back up to the castle, so I'll…be going now." She wasn't in the mood for human contact of any sorts. Just this little mini conversation was giving her a headache. Hermione just wanted to curl up with one of her favorite books and fall asleep reading it.

She backed towards the door, but she didn't even move five inches before Smith was next to her, "Wait, wouldn't you like to share a Butterbeer with me? Nice day for it."

Hermione's eyes flickered behind her teacher; Rosmerta wasn't even behind the counter. No one was in the Three Broomsticks besides those two. She was positive that the innkeeper wanted nothing more than for those two to leave, so she could get some peace and quiet. And the witch was right there with her. Hermione's brown eyes narrowed, and she gently pulled away from her strange friend. "It's also a nice day to lay in bed and do nothing."

"Yeah, but its Saturday, the best things happen on Saturdays. Leave the dull stuff for Sundays. Sundays are boring." His arms were out slightly, and a little smile was showing. He seemed to be pleading almost. "And this...this is such a great thing to do on a Saturday instead of on a boring Sunday."

She really didn't want to walk back in the snow. Hermione was just beginning to feel warm again, and it was nice; the empty room. No commotion, no noise, no threat that a dungbomb would appear out of nowhere and explode; it's really what Hermione needed. She groaned inwardly. If was making excuses to spend a little time with this man, she was in big, big trouble.

Hermione made a face, thinking. Smith wiggled his eyebrows, and her slight scowl turned into a smile. She sighed dramatically, and the witch sat down at one of the tables. The Doctor grinned fully and joined his student. The witch hung her jacket and scarf on the chair behind her. Smith removed his coat too, and his classic blue suit was one underneath it. His red Converse rested on an empty chair, and one of them was twitching with energy. Hermione could feel regret boiling in her chest. This really could not end well.

Rosmerta eventually appeared and set a Fire Whiskey down, along with a small glass of Butterbeer. The witch smiled warmly at Hermione and then eyed the Doctor slowly. Smirking slightly, the teenager closed her hands around her mug, enjoying the look that was on her teacher's face.

He smiled at his student, thinking her grin was for him. His beaming face stalled for a second when he turned to glance at his waitress. His eyebrows knit, and then realization crossed his face. The teenager snorted into her glass, and Smith opened his mouth to say something, anything. Rosmerta sashayed away, and Hermione chuckled into his mug., louder this time. Shocked and maybe a tad flustered, Smith turned back to his student. Seeing her expression, he silently told her to keep her mouth shut.

The witch was enjoying herself immensely, finally seeing that this man was, in fact, human after all. He swiped a hand through his hair, his eyes glued on the table. His eyes lit up slightly when they landed on the golden drink. An air of two year old excitement surrounded the Doctor, and he gladly gripped his drink. He took a sip from his own mug, making a slightly weird face.

"Takes like cream soda." He stated, disappointment clear in his words. The Doctor's face fell, even his hair seemed to slouch forward with sadness, "I thought it was supposed to taste sort of like caramel and warm you up from the inside out?"

Hermione slowly lowered her glass. This conversation was becoming very weird already. First the Doctor is treated like eye candy, then he starts babbling about a Muggle drink. She wiped her mouth, "Where did you get that from?"

The Doctor blinked slowly, his brain scrambling for something apart from the truth. He couldn't very well say that he got the idea from a series partially written about her life. "Well…uh, a student described it to me once." He took another sip of his not too satisfying drink.

Hermione raised her eyebrows for a brief second, "Well, it sounded like it came out of a book or something. Must have been a heck of a description."

The Doctor forced a chuckle, his stomach twisting. "Aren't you a tad young to be drinking that?" He said in a desperate attempt to change the subject. His hand was gestured towards Hermione's nearly full mug, a cocky grin on his face.

She scoffed, smiling slightly, "I am of age, Professor Smith. I think it's perfectly okay."

"Dunno." He laid back in his chair, his hands going behind his head, "I might have to give you a detention for that."

With a roll of her eyes, the witch retorted, "Oh really? Will we have another tea party or play Wizard's Chess?"

The two new friends grinned at each other over their drinks, tension slowly melting away. It was still awkward between them, no question about that. Smith's higher rank at Hogwarts, and Hermione's reputation made it difficult for the three, Donna included, to really become close friends. Each time the witch left Smith's office, more and more people would whisper about it. It didn't seem right to the students. But what about Hagrid? The Golden Trio's best friend was a teacher, and no one found it really weird then.

Hermione figured it was just because Smith and Donna were new, and she was the muggle-born who helped Harry Potter. Those three kept attracting the monster that was hiding in the woods also. Between the trio, it wasn't really surprising that they were attracting attention. But why did it matter if the spotlight was on them? Hermione found herself so much happier when she was with this skinny man and the loud redhead. They made her laugh, and the witch needed some smiles in her life. Those two saw her in her weakest moment and some of her strongest. She couldn't very well say they _weren't_ friends. They had been through too much.

Sipping her drink, the witch made a decision: Those two teachers made her lonely school life so much more bearable, so dammit, the witch could be friends with them if she wanted. Hermione looked over at Smith again, and she promised that she'd stop calling him Smith. Except for in class and with sarcastic comments, maybe that'd show the Doctor that she really trusted and liked him. After all, he did save her life, how much more trust could he earn?

They talked for a very, very long time, discussing almost everything and anything. But it was never about the Doctor. The topics were either focused on the young witch or random, off-the-wall subjects. Whenever Hermione asked a simple question about the man sitting across from her, he answered stiffly and moved on. The Doctor had some emotional baggage, that much was clear, but it became more obvious when they chatted. They only thing that she really found out about the Doctor was that he knew a lot of people, and his heart held a lot of love and lost. That was just from observation though. Hermione could never really know what'd was going on inside that crazy head of his unless he let her inside.

The snow was lightly falling, and the sky was dark. Neither person really wanted to leave the warm room and trudge through the cold though. The thought of a nice warm bed and sleep made it very tempting to stumble through the wind and snow. Hermione could feel her eyelids drooping, the energy draining from her body. It had been a long day. Even though she didn't really do anything, she was still exhausted. When the Doctor paused to drink out of his newly filled cup, she glanced at her watch.

The witch stood up, stretching, "We better go Doctor. The sun set over a half hour ago."

Her friend looked surprised, "Time does fly." He smirked then, a tiny, almost invisible smirk that held so much more that it appeared. Hermione tilted her head, questioning, but the joke was gone from his lips and a normal grin replaced it. The Doctor launched to his feet, swinging his coat around his shoulders.

Making a slight face, the witch threw on her coat, and made her way towards the door. The Doctor opened the door for his young companion and followed her up to the castle. Neither of them said a word. Nothing needed to be said. They just listened to the sound of crunching snow and beating hearts. Hermione pulled out her wand, and a jet of warm magic melted the snow in front of the couple. They walked easily, the cold not as bothersome now. Small smiles on their faces, they glanced at one another, so happy that they found another person who they could call a friend.

...

"So, how did you even meet him?" Hermione was sitting on a desk with Donna. Both woman's legs were crossed, a pink tea cup in their hands. They each had a free period early in the morning, and it had become ritual to have tea in the Defense Against the Dark Art teacher's classroom. There was no skinny, wild mad with them. So it was just idle chit-chat. Neither woman felt quite comfortable with the other yet.

The red-head smiled as the memory resurfaced. Images of running in a white dress, jumping from a taxi cab, and little scooter type things flashed behind her eyes. Donna sighed slightly and grinned at Hermione, glad she finally had a bit of alone time with her young friend.

"It was on my wedding day." She said, sort of vague. She saw Hermione glance at her left hand. Donna chuckled, "Yeaah, the Doctor… he talked me out of it. My ex-fiancé, he was jerk." She brushed her hair back, sadness filling her eyes, "Can't believe I fell for it."

Hermione smiled sadly, understanding completely. "At least you had the Doctor with you. He seems like a good friend." She took a sip out of her teacup. Her eyes were fixed on Donna, and she watched as memories washed over the redhead. Love, and sadness shone brightly through her eyes. She snapped herself out of her reminiscences, and set her cup down.

"I didn't see him for a long time after that. I just…ran into him one day. Then it all went downhill from there." Donna laughed slightly. "I travel with him now. We go on crazy adventures, run a lot, and we've almost lost our lives. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Hermione smiled, thinking of her own friends. What if she never became friends with Harry and Ron. Oh, how horribly ordinary her life would've been. No adventures, no risks, no saving the day. Just a normal Hogwarts experience. But who wants that? Never going down Fluffly's trapdoor, never riding Buckbeak, never destroying Horcruxes. Those experiences, however dangerous, made the witch who she was today. Hermione found herself agreeing with her teacher. Even though she could've died, it was worth it. Maybe that made her insane. But the sorceress realized that she was okay with it.

"Enough about that man." The red head declared, startling Hermione out of her train of thought. "So, what do you guys actually do for fun around here?"

The witch blinked, her eyebrows furrowing, "Oh, well…there's Quidditch, and Wizard's Chess and all sorts of clubs." Hermione bit her lip slightly, "There isn't really much to _do,_ really. We all just sit around, playing pranks, making jokes, being around each other. Like a family."

It didn't sound like a bad life, Donna mused. After all, being in a magical school had to have excitement all on its own with activities. Although, the redhead needed a break from the renaissance feeling of the place to go watch a movie or something. She barely survived a month in the TARDIS not being able to watch her favorite telly program. The only reason she wasn't insane yet was because of the circumstances that Hermione and the Doctor kept bringing to the table.

"So there's no TV, no technology. Nothing?" Hermione looked at her a little weird then, and Donna bit her tongue. She cursed inside her head, she should've known not to ask questions.

"No, magic interferes with electricity…Surely you knew that, being a witch and all."

Donna stared at her student for a brief moment, "Right." She breathed, grinning, "Of course I knew that. Just…tired is all."

Hermione smiled slightly, one eyebrow cocked. There was a moment of silence before the red-head muttered, "Shame though. Can't watch movies or the telly."

"Right?" The witch's eyes were wide, "I really do hate that. When I go back home, I have to catch up on all of the shows I missed."

"It takes forever to find out where you left off, and you never have the time to watch 'em." Donna made little gestures with her hands, her eyes bright.

"Oh yeah. Takes forever to catch up."

"It's such a hassle."

"The worst."

The women grinned at each other, their friendship strengthening. For the rest of their free period, they discussed Muggle life, Muggle problems, and just anything that could be found in an ordinary life. They shared the stressful and wonderful details about being in a different world that was so close to their own. Harry and the Doctor were talked about, along with the adventures that came with them. Although, Donna didn't give too many details when she shared her tales, much to Hermione's disappointment. From what was told, Professor Noble had amazing adventures with the Doctor, far more exciting that the witch's.

Hermione was so disappointed to see that Transfiguration was coming closer. She wanted nothing more than to sit on the desk, drinking tea and chatting. But she knew that'd she be late if she stayed any longer. The witch sighed and pushed herself away from the desk, the last hour echoing through her mind. Grabbing her bag, she made her way towards the door.

"See you tomorrow for tea Hermione?"

The witch gave her teacher a bright smile, her eyes shining. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Her bushy head joined the hordes of students, and soon she was lost in a sea of black-robed individuals. Donna leaned against the cold stone wall, her arms crossed. The bustle of witches and wizards was habitual, and it even started to feel normal. The spells, the incantations, moving pictures and staircases didn't even make the red-head do a double take anymore.

This unusual life had become a normal one. And Donna couldn't say it was any different from traveling around with the Doctor. Maybe a tad less danger and running, but not much. She had grown fond of this place that shouldn't exist. She was starting to love the grounds and cold corridors, the lessons and the people. It felt as homey as anywhere else.

Hogwarts had snuck up behind the redhead and clamped itself onto her, making Donna fall in love with the atmosphere. She couldn't imagine teaching anywhere else, nor did she want to, But then again, she never wanted to be a teacher in the first place. What better place could there be to practice a career that she didn't want to pursue? Somewhere, probably, but Donna was perfectly fine where she was.

Her heart sank when she realized that she and the Doctor wouldn't be staying. Donna sighed and looked down at the bottom of her robes. After that thing was caught, she'd hop back into the TARDIS with her beloved Spaceman. They'd say goodbye to this amazing castle, and its properties. Then with the roar of engines, this beautiful place would fade away and become just a memory.

As she walked back to her classroom, Donna found herself hoping that this shadow would stay hidden, if just for a little while longer.


End file.
